My life is going strangely well at the moment. Undoubtedly things will all come crashing down (literally) when I fly to f*cking Patagonia next month, which requires about 20 billion hours in the air and small South American aircraft. I will have to pack so much Xanax I won't have room for anything else.

Sometimes I ask myself why I must choose such a difficult vacation? Why, with my fear of flying, must I choose to fly to the southern tip of the world? Why, when I could go sit my a*s on a beach somewhere, must I choose the most logistically daunting option of traveling a world away to some unknown mountains where (although it’s summer), I will undoubtedly get caught in snow and fierce wind and probably fall off a glacier? Ah yes, can you feel the relaxation?


But I figure this is one of the most spectacular places in the world and
I better get down there before I become 1) enfeebled, 2)boring and married, or 3)too timid to fling myself to the southern reaches of the world.

Ye olde mighty Geeksoft gave me a month off and for that I am eternally grateful. I hope to “recharge the batteries” as they like to say in the travel biz! Especially because soon after I return, I will become a published author and well – all the fans and the paparazzi are gonna want a piece of me. I’ll have no rest whatsoever.

Ha ha ha.