These days I dream of vacations. Of sand beneath my feet and the
sound of waves racing toward me.
I dream of not waking before the sun rises; of sleeping soundly; and
of hours that involve good books, laughter, or absolutely nothing but
Looking at the calendar, I see that, in my case, dreams aren't soon to
become a reality.
A cab driver once told me that Americans work too hard; never taking
I never thought I would become one of those Americans and yet, that is
exactly what I have become, a vacation-less worker bee- That's me.