It's Difficult to Do a Countdown When You Have No Sense of Time

I'm in countdown mode. The Fourth of July weekend is rapidly approaching, and with it, my hop skip and jump over to Las Vegas for a long weekend of gambling and, if I'm lucky (which I usually am not, but then we are talking about Vegas here), debauchery.

Normally countdowns for vacations start way earlier than this: Thanksgiving trips become the focal point for looking forward at the start of October, for example. But time seems to be escaping me recently; I'm starting to lose track of any particular day in relation to the next. It was only recently that I realized how close the Fourth of July weekend is already.

Recently, a co-worker announced her intention to take her family and move back to St. Louis. The announcement came about a month ago, i.e., mid-May. When I asked whether she had a particular time frame on this decision (so I could figure out when I'd be assuming a substantial chunk of her workload), she responded that those decisions would pretty much be dictated by the school year. "Oh," I thought. "Then we have some time." Of course, by May, most school years are done, so we didn't have nearly as much time as I thought, and she and her family may be packed up and gone within another month (so the kids can start school in StL.).

Anyway, Vegas. It's in just over two weeks now. I'm pumped. If for nothing else than some really good food. And hopefully some fun gambling. And maybe some cute boys, but then that might just be asking too much. (Oh, if anyone happens to be in Vegas over that weekend and wants to split my hotel room with me, let me know....)

Oh, and have I mentioned that I'll be turning older that weekend too? I'll be re-embarking on my 28th year. Uh, yay.