My family, it seems, has a small obsession with the three hole punch. They always want to know where it is, and somehow in the 35 minutes before they all decide they need to three hole punch something else, it is misplaced. I don't understand it, but I bet if you came over in say an hour in a half, and walked through the door, somebody would be yelling up the stairs "Where's the three hole punch?"

I like this whole vacation thing. I forgot what its like to look at myself in the mirror and not see all my worry stenciled out in my eyes. And I smile, cuz it's that great to forget about math assignments for a minute, and to not think about kids at school that I don't want to think about, and have dreams at night that don't involve someone ruining my life, or me finding dead bodies in the cupboard. Its nice to be able to wake myself up because I have, ahem, an alarm clock. "Time" has entered my bedroom, so now I can't be late for work.
Really, the only thing I want to worry about is putting enough moisturizer on my face for the sunburn.