Dear Diary,
I'm having a good time. Wish you were here! Huh? No, not really, but it seemed like the right thing to say. Well f*** it then. I could care less about your feelings. Like I don't care if you get mad that we spent 5 hours at the beach yesterday. Had a great time. So much so that after all that time in the water, the kids were begging to get into the pool at the hotel. I didn't care about their crying either. One thing I do care about is ignoring this time zone. My only problem is that the rest of the crew doesn't. So I'm eating dinner at what is truly 11pm for me. I'm good with staying up that late, but I'd have been done eating much earlier. I'm still working it out, even if I'm not working it off though. After an hour on the bike this morning, the scale here showed me a 233. I still think it's a couple lbs higher than reality, so I'm not claiming it, but I don't doubt that I've crossed back to the 230's. Oh well. I'm on vacation. I'll go back to working hard, when I go back to work. Huh? Don't worry about when I'm coming back. B***h.
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