Home Alone

Although I don’t own a volleyball, I feel a lot like Tom Hanks in “Cast Away” this week.

I’m living alone.

All alone.

We spent the weekend at a lake house with Amanda’s parents. It was awesome. This morning, I woke up at 5:30am, got ready in the darkness and in complete silence to avoid waking up the semi-sleeping kids, and boarded a train back to DC. Everyone else is still at the lake house. Even Napoleon stayed behind so he can do some water skiing.

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So how will I spend the next few days home alone? Other than working, going to a Nationals game, and warding off burglars with broken Christmas ornaments and buckets of paint, I’ll be sleeping. Like, going to bed at 9pm and not waking up to baby shrieking at 2:30am kind of sleeping.

Although I’ll miss everyone dearly, the thought of uninterrupted and peaceful sleep is a beautiful and glorious thing (but still not as beautiful as my wife, kids, Chihuahua, and all the junk food at the lake house).

Happy Monday, y’all!

Holler

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