While remembering all of the fun that I had on Day One, including a thrilling two-color nail stamp…
On the third day, I got sick.
I’m not sure if it was an errant germ from my Wednesday (Day T-1) excursion to the casino
or the ancient dust from that desk but I started sneezing at the end of Day Two.
After a night of barely any sleep – one stretch of “AWAKE” had me up from 2:30am until 4:30am – and a tissue count of over 24*, I’d decided that I wasn’t going to attempt to head back to Dad’s, for another dust-filled day.
I bugged out of the hotel and high-tailed it home, never stopping at the usual “Last Starbucks before the NY bridges” or picking up anything for dinner.
Wes was thrilled to see me
But his response to “Can’t you make me some chicken soup?” was not a surprise.
So I cleared up my car
and that brings us full circle to
*I’m very surprised that no one complained about the “fog horn” of my all-night-long, constant nose blowing.