At nearly 40 I suppose it's time I stop referring to myself as a "girl," but I'll probably always feel like a girl at heart. I have had some rather grown-up stress as of late, so this weekend I packed up and headed to a little resort town nearby for a stay in an Edwardian era hotel which came with an hour long massage, free dinner--I ordered the rib-eye and it was delicious, and a walking tour of the historic part of town. I may have inadvertently gotten the tour guide fired. I was listening, straining really, somewhere in the middle of the group, when a classy older woman sidled up next to me and asked, "Can you hear anything she's saying?" I turned and gave an exasperated shake of my head, only to then find out this was the tour guide's boss and it was "make-it-or-break-it day." Eeesh.
Other than that, I truly enjoyed my sleepless, restful days away and they went by far too quickly for my taste. I spent the afternoon of my final day not in bed, sleeping in as I probably should have, but up before dawn, exploring this gracious town. Breakfast at another antique dive followed by a visit to an art gallery and a hat shop capped off my time there. And then of course there was the brilliantly colored drive home.
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