700

Still chugging along, one month into this thing.  Which means there are only 23 months left!  That sounds like such a long time, but I know if I wasn't doing a project like this that forces me to think about and (try to) enjoy some aspect of each day, I would just wake up one day and be 30 years old and have no idea where my twenties went.  I already kind of feel that way, like I act like a crotchety octogenarian Jewish man more often than not.  Maybe I've read too many Peanuts comic strips, and internalized the mindset of the tiny little person with cynical, existential tendencies.  I'm hoping this project will give me a little kick in the ass to chill out and stop being so high strung and anal all the time.  Ain't nobody got time for that!  Life's too short!

Except when your flight is delayed.  Then the pace of life slows to a complete standstill.  Those moments are forever.  Time suspends itself, just like those time-outs that Zack Morris used to call on Saved By The Bell.  Super useful when used judiciously, like when you need to gaze dreamily into the camera and speak as the omniscient narrator of melodramatic teenage antics.  Not super useful when you have a tight connection that you are totally going to miss if a mechanic doesn't get his ass in gear, literally and figuratively, so that your plane can take off on time.

Sunday

The day started off with promise.  A late morning stroll around Greenville before our 4:30 flight.

Yes, about that.

It gon' rain.

Boarding, round one.  Then they kicked us off the plane for two hours so they could change the oil or some garbage like that.  

Back through the love tunnel.

The inside of a pb&j sandwich does not photograph well, but this was bonkers.  Who would think to put a custom pb&j stand in an airport?  A GENIUS, that's who.  Further proof:  apple slices inside.  This is like Nobel Peace Prize level up in here, because I was about to (totally metaphorically) stab someone (a lot of someones) before I got a hold of this sammich for dinner at 8 PM. 

Hedge funds, I never thought of you that way before.

And then we got home at 1:30 in the morning.  It's Thursday and I'm still tired.   But we're living!  Living the life!  Shopping for real estate, applying for mortgages, negotiating!  Yea, I'm trying here, but that exclamation point really does nothing except underscore how out of touch I am with 'fun' at this juncture.  I'm all business.  All work and no play.  Even when I'm doing something that technically counts as recreating, I'm making lists in my head.  I can't sit down on the couch and vegetate at the end of the day without growing a little ulcer for every box of stuff I think I should be packing.  

But time flies, and I'm going to wake up one morning in South Carolina and feel like that friggin' Talking Heads song.  I'll be all, 'how did I get here?' and, 'this is not my beautiful house.'  But I'll have these photos to remind me how I got there.