Vacation is exhausting. And what didn't I need to happen upon my return? My car to break down. Yes, that's right folks, I drove 16 hours to return from the bosom of my family, merely wanting to find peace and quiet and my own damn bed, and what I got was: 1 dead car, 1 raging headache, and 500,000 things to do before I return to work on Monday.
We'll be maintaining radio silence until we can quell the urge to scream. (I will say this: The butter cow was lovely. Should we have gone to the state fair on the hottest day of the year? Perhaps not. But the butter cow was lovely.)
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