Best Easter in years, actually, and the only eggs I encountered were in my omelet. But Jesus, coming back to work after a weekend of seaside fun and great food should be illegal. It should, in fact, be mandatory to spend your first day back from a trip at the DMV so you’ll be grateful to be in your dull and soulless office, not getting any fresh air, not soaking up any sunshine, not living life.
Which is a mostly whiny-ass way of saying I spent Easter Sunday and Not Easter Monday in Dana Point and you can totally tell because I have an actual complexion and a spark of life behind my eyes hinting at more than just office-zombie dreariness.
Know what’s awesome? Watching a hundred seagulls diving at the water during the sunset, looking for their dinner, as you smell the salt air and wonder why you’d live anywhere that didn’t smell like this all the time. Know what isn’t? Sales reports.