Plan B

Well, that didn't take long. I've worked about 30 hours already this week and the knots in my shoulders, neck and back snapped right back into place.

Rats!!!

Don't those muscles know they're supposed to be relaxed?!?! Was that 9-day trip to utopia in vain!?!?

This morning, as I was standing in the kitchen watching the coffee pot brew my coffee (it's like watching a pot of water boil, only more painful and takes infinitely longer), I reflected on what I would do if I lost my job. Back in the day, I had juvenile dreams of becoming a cartoon animator, a fighter pilot (thank you, Top Gun!), or a travel agent. The travel agent thing might have been a possibility, but among the Expedia's and Travelocity's of the world, I'd have some stiff competition.

Grabbing the creamer out of the fridge, it dawned on me. I should be a dog walker. I'd move to a ritzy beach town like Boca and walk rich peoples' dogs all day long. I'd get my exercise by walking on the beach, spend time with my furry friends, and enjoy the Floridian climate I dream of. We'd probably live below the poverty level, but that's okay, right?!

On second thought, I think this has already been done. I think I'm thinking of the Jennifer Lopez character on the movie "Monster-in-Law!" Still, it seems like a sweet gig to me!