Jamaica Me Happy
I hopped on a plane to Jamaica right after Thanksgiving, strategically escaping the hustle-and-bustle-for-no-reason that hijacks the holiday season. It was very much a last-minute trip, which is totally out of character for me but pushing forward at full speed had taken its toll and I finally had an epiphany (breakdown) while standing in line at City Bakery. I had been working non-stop in every way imaginable for as long as I could remember and while all of this work had led to some pretty amazing and surprising triumphs, both personally and professionally, the sheer magnitude of my exhaustion in that moment crushed me with the weight of a million pretzel croissants. I booked the trip that very same night. Buh-bye. Comfortably sprawled on my lounge chair by the pool, mellowed by my margarita drip, I dove into the book I had started way back in June. Yes, June. I know. That’s exactly what I said.
