S.A.D.

yes...it's a real deal, folks. There are for real no kidding bona fide S.A.D people wandering around even as I type, and I'm seriously thinking about joining them. S.A.D. apparantly stands for Seasonal Adjustment Disorder....or "frustrated sun junkie" as I prefer to be known. I'm not a hopeless case...I don't mind winter as long as I don't have to stand out in it, which of course I do, several mornings a week, at work. Which has probably made me more of a borderline SAD ass rather than a completely depressed SAD sack, of which there are plenty....they're the ones with their noses pressed up against the travel agents window, inhaling the ink from the latest Fiji brochures. I'll be happy when my driveway warms up enough for me to revive concrete zen without freezing my butt off. And I'd like my tattoo to see sunlight before my dolphins turn into fish fingers. I'm also craving the beach some.... yesterday I tried on my bikini in preparation for our camping trip in September. Wishful thinking?? Now that really is SAD.....