Iâ€™m traveling this week. Iâ€™m in Orlando â€“ home of Walt Disney World and Harry Potter Land. And. I. Will. Not. See. Either. (Work travel â€“ a whole winecone unto itself.)
Itâ€™s a work trip. So I have actual work to do here. I tried to convince a colleague to play hooky and experience the magic with me. He said no. I know â€“ I was just as shocked as you are. So with a whip of my wand to conjure mouse-eared winecones at my so-close yet so-far situation â€“ letâ€™s get to it.
Again. See above. Actually, a winecone at the act of traveling in general. Not the experience â€“ the specific getting where youâ€™re going part. You know â€“ all those lines so we can cram ourselves into a large aluminum tube and hope to hell Bernoulli knew what he was talking about as we hurtle through the atmosphere at high speeds. (PS. There is no such thing as an â€œemergency landing.â€ It is a crash.)
Why would you comment on my lunch? â€œYou really shouldnâ€™t eat that burrito. Itâ€™s not good for you.â€ Why would you ask if I really needed that Snickers out of the vending machine?
Editorâ€™s note: Iâ€™m going to go out on a limb here and suggest that perhaps our nutritional observer wasnâ€™t Jillian Michaels. This is the perfect situation to shoot icy-cold-stare-down winecones in a silent attack. Because good â€œforâ€ you? Probably not. But Iâ€™m betting it was damn good. And also, sometimes, yes. Yes you do need that Snickers out of the vending machine. Throw winecones, not the Snickers. Because then you will have to buy another one.
Sometimes life is just a shit show of cluster-fuckery. (That is totally the technical term.) This is where I right now. Donâ€™t even know where to throw a wine cone first.
Editorâ€™s note: First â€“ letâ€™s take a point well put from the Bloggess and remind everyone that depression is a lying son-of-a-bitch. Believe nothing it tells you. Now, as for your winecone dilemma, I recommend some warm up tosses. This is akin to going to the batting cages to relieve stress. Maybe youâ€™ll pinpoint your target, maybe youâ€™ll just shatter some cones. Either way â€“ may moments of furiously happy be in your future. And also wine.
To the empty middle seat on my flight out here â€“ I think I love you. To the little boy (about muppet aged) who didnâ€™t cry the whole flight â€“ you are adorable. To my mother-in-law for babysitting crazy weird hours so I can get to a super exciting tradeshow via the nerd bird wineconed above â€“ you are awesome. And, really, to that adult beverage at the end of the day while traveling for work â€“ MUAH!
Got anyone/anything to add?
And with that â€“ Iâ€™m off to get my kicksâ€¦â€˜Till next week, winecones and kisses!