The toes know…it’s time to come home.
I’m having a pre-departure cocktail and packing up my toys. The digital camera and its accoutrements, the iPod and headphones (for use only on the plane, not on the beach), two novels, four magazines (my hate/love/hate affair with Vanity Fair continues), the ac adaptors, and in moments, our mini laptop.
Do I need all these toys (aside from the novels)? Nope. But I wanted to bring them.
I need to have a serious talk with myself about really, truly getting away.