That's what the sign says on the back of the door of my childhood bedroom, written with one of those battery-operated squiggly pens from the '90s (remember those?). It's a constant reminder from my 12 year old self that life gets much more complicated beyond that wooden door, so it would be best to prepare oneself.
And that's what I've tried to do over the past 24 hours, as our 10 day vacation came to a close and we flew back to our newest home, across the country and far away from the family and friends with whom we filled those short but seemingly infinite days.
Real life, indeed: 200+ emails in my work inbox and tornado warnings. Thank you, Midwest.
Still, there's plenty of reasons that make being back home a reason to celebrate. Among the more notable are: a reunion with J-dog, our own bed, an upcoming gathering of our local friends, and being back in the land of $4 (or less) malty beverages.
Our vacation kept us very busy--one of those vacations that makes you want another vacation to recover--but we packed it all in. The main events were a wedding of our dear friends (in which Dr. D was a groomsman and I was an impromptu day-of coordinator, but more on that later) and my birthday, which I happen to share in common with my mother. It was great to be able to spend our birthdays together and indulge; mother-daughter mimosas and chocolate fondue were definitely a must. I love how in-tune our tastes are.
Now it's back to the grind. Work will start getting very busy for me starting in August, and Dr. D starts his 3rd year of med school and first rotation (family medicine) on Monday. Should make for some interesting stories!