...how taking even a short vacation never fails to leave you needing another vacation?
I. Am. Tired.
PhillyGuy and I went to NYC for a nice three-day weekend. We had a bunch of hotel points to use up, so we stayed gratis at a great Marriott right across the street from the Waldorf-Astoria. Fabulous location, perfect weather...so what did we do?
Friday night, we had reservations at Del Posto, one of Mario Battali's restaurants. We spent the equivalent of our "free" hotel on dinner, and I am NOT SORRY. Not even a little bit. We did a five-course menu, including an antipasto (I had clams with fried artichokes; he had roasted winter veggies), two pasta tastings (homemade pumpkin ravioli-esque filled pastas with a cream sauce; fresh penne-type pasta with a bison bolognese), entree (pork for PhillyGuy, ribeye for me) and following up with dessert and cappuccino. I'm flaking on the details now, and honestly, that might have a LITTLE BIT to do with the bottle of wine we shared...or the martini I had before that...or the gin and tonic(s) I had afterwards next door at Collicchio and Sons. Oops. (STILL not sorry!)
We spent the vast majority of Saturday lazing around in bed. Honestly, I can't picture a better, more necessary way for me to spend some time off than that. I slept for hours, and hours, and hours, waking up only to lazily stroll down the street to a deli for a quick sandwich and return to blissfully nap until I woke up panicking -- it was 7:15 and we had 8pm tickets to Rock of Ages!
By some miracle, we threw ourselves together and made it with perfect timing -- about five minutes before the curtain. And let me tell you -- that show was hysterical. I love, love, LOVE the whole Big Hair Band/"power ballad" era, and this did it up perfectly.
After a lazy weekend away, I'm finding myself struggling to get back into the swing of things today. I had a filing kicked back and I'm trying to get it fixed, I have documents to review, and I had a bunch of voicemails that I still need to return -- I really, really need to get some caffeine in me, since my peppermint tea just ain't cutting it.
Probably not helping matters much is the fact that PhillyGuy and I dragged our sorry butts out of bed this morning at 5am for the first day of P90X. (I'm still sort of ashamed to be associating myself with this, since it is unforgiveably tool-box-y.) But, d-bag advertising or not, this is no joke. This morning was back, check and abs -- I'm sorry, "AB RIPPER X." We basically spent an hour doing various types of pushups, modified pullups (since neither PhillyGuy nor I can actually complete a single unassisted pullup) and a few other pull-type exercises using resistance bands, and followed it with a nonstop 15-minutes of various ab exercises. The chest and back was tough, but doable -- I felt nice and sore and happy and sweaty afterwards. The abs? F that mess. It calls for 25 reps each of probably 7 or 8 exercises. I could only complete all 25 reps of MAYBE one or two. The others, I pulled out maybe 15 or so...and there was at least one where I could not even manage more than 3 or 4 reps. THIS is going to be brutal.
Oh well. I'm looking forward to improving to the point where I can at least complete what I'm supposed to, you know? Such is life. Right this second, though, I am heading STRAIGHT downstairs for an iced coffee.