It was about a week ago that Joe told me he'd like to try and take a vacation this fall. We've been talking about going back to Jamaica...it's my favorite place on Earth, after all. But the economy has been about as supportive of this wish as the levies in New Orleans during Katrina. You can imagine my elation when he suggested we should try and go. I've been doing Uppercase Living for nearly a year for this very reason, and with rates as low as they are on travel, maybe it's time to cash in...
I've been trying not to think to much about it as I don't want to get my hopes up. Responsibility needs to come first, so we have a lot to evaluate. But suddenly, today, I could almost SMELL Jamaica. The sun was shining for about ten minutes at the very time I thought of the sandy beaches, warmth and all the sweet umbrella drinks I could handle. I envisioned yummy food and steel drums playing reggae music. I'm telling you... I could smell the chlorine of the pools with the large "Sandals" logo mosaiced (word?) on the bottom.
So what brought on this mental teleportation to the country I hold so dear?
I was disinfecting the powder room toilet. Funny how the smell of bleach can take you from something so nauseating (Braeden misses the toilet bowl on occasion...) to something so exhilarating.
I may never think of toilets the same way again.
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