Monday: Jogged one mile around Scottsdale with Mr. Bickerson and Arnold. Not sure if "jogged" is the correct word. Probably looked more like "walking slow while crying" to the average onlooker. Then whirlpool. Then lunch: Greek. Then supper: Thai.
Tuesday: Whirlpool, sun, sightseeing. Lunch? Mexican. Supper? Veggieburger.
Wednesday: When the pilot says (more than once in a six hour delay), "We're waiting to hear from maintenance about a part they need to fix the plane. You know as much as we know," that's a sign to get the hell off of that plane.
Thursday: Back to the same old, glorious, routiney routine. I enjoy a nice vacation but I always love coming home even more.
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