I don't know why, but traveling always takes a lot out of me. It doesn't matter what form it takes, be it plane or car, or how long the actual journey is, I'm always beat afterwards and need at leas a day to recuperate. I got back from the beach on Monday (and am very pleased that I didn't get sunburned at all while I was there!), but am dead tired bow because I didn't get my usual day of relaxation: I spent Tuesday taking Camacho to the airport, having lunch with Matt and his co-workers, and then house-hunting all afternoon with his mom and realtor. The good news is that we found a couple of promising houses (and only one or two "Is it really safe to be in here?"s), and they're all relatively close to where we're living now. The bad news is that I am still exhausted, and have nothing else to write about for today.
I mean, unless you guys want to hear about the heat rash I got during my first day back at work today.