So Miami is nice. I think I shan’t like to leave. I got in on Friday in time for “them” to announce they were ahead of schedule, and so we were taking the rest of the night off. I checked in and found out I was to have a roommate. Of course, when I walked into the room, it had a king bed in it. I went back down and was like, “I don’t mind sharing a room because, hello amenities! but I am a little unsure about sharing a bed. I mean, this girl and I haven’t even met, yet, and what if she’s a night sweater? I don’t know that I’d like inadvertently cuddling with sweaty strangers…." So now they are letting me keep the room as a single. Sa-weet.
Saturday we met around 9:00 to order room service breakfast, then we worked a bit, then we went to a THREE HOUR LUNCH wherein we consumed an inane amount of mojitos and yummy food on the beach before returning to do a bit more work. Then we split up and I took a nap on my five-million thread count sheets before reconvening for an evening of alcohol and expensive food.
My boss for the week is pretty much the kindest person ever, although I’m a little reluctant to call her my “boss” since really all she does is give me cute new chapsticks, sarongs, and massages. She’s more like my mom. Or maybe my pimp. Anywhos, she’s nice. And organized. And condones hard work supplemented by wine. Or vodka lemonades. And I condone that kind of thinking.
Today we woke up early (had to be at work by 8:00, wtf?) but room service was again ordered and we were done by 11:00 and so then we went to the beach. And I doused myself in SPF 50 and prayed and swam in the warmest ocean I’ve ever been in, and then reapplied sunscreen and sat for a bit in the sun and GUESS WHAT! I am a wee bit tan!!!!!!!! WHO KNEW I COULD GET TAN?! Not I. I am excited. Now, two hours later, it’s already peeling off. But let me assure you, I saw a hint of a tan line in the shower and I am super excited.
I did, unfortunately, forget my camera. Crap. But perhaps I will just stay here and have The Funasaurus and kitties move in with me. I think they’ll like the tan butler. And by that I do not mean he is tan. (Although he is.) I mean he’s there to rub coconut oil on you, on the private beach, if you so choose. I would so choose if I didn’t think I’d burn to a crisp.
This has been a good trip, so far.
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9 comments:
ok, so how do I get a job working with you? Can I be your assistant?
No! no moving! I'd be bummed :-)
Talked to your bachelor, I mean, hubby today. I think he's managing without you...barely - hehe
Can't wait to hear all about it when you get back.
Wow! I want your job.
Now this sounds like a helluva job!
Sounds like a *great* trip!
Your job travels always sound so fabulous. I mean, I'm so guilty of ENVY right now! Sorta...I mean I don't know that I would like to be away from my kidlets that much, but wowza.
And YAY on the tan!!
I think you and I should switch jobs...
"She’s more like my mom. Or maybe my pimp."
Run if the beatings start!
Where can I find this job? :)
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