Elisa's Journal

It's official. I'm getting older. I had a great time in Alaska, but getting back into the saddle again here in Texas hasn't exactly been a picnic. I'm still on Pacific time, but I still have to get up early and work. When I wake up, I could swear that, while I was sound asleep, I was shoved into a boxing ring for a bout with Tyson, taken to every light night bar by a band of hooligan friends, given a full body scrub with the coarsest steel wool (including my eyeballs,) forced to debate the Iraqi conflict in front of the Senate and the Parliament, and coerced into completing an Ironman competition--all in one fell swoop, whatever the hell that is. Ugh. Plus, now I'm back to being poached by 300 degree, 500% humidity so that the mildew that had once sprouted in my every wrinkle and crevice has found new life. The weird thing about it: my kids are all chipper, bright-eyed, and bushy tailed urging me on to play all sorts of crazy games, making a disaster of the house that was spotless when we left, and, well, it's all rather disgusting all that energy they have. But I'm so glad I unpacked, cuz now I can crawl back into an empty suitcse and hope some Good Samaritan will check me into the first flight to the West Indies. Anyone want to join me? (After eating 24/7 on the cruise, I'm afraid there's only room for me in my spacious suitcase, so you'll have to travel in your own. Sorry. Anyway, I'll meet you on carousel 12.)