Ah! The nervous energy of an adventure forthcoming. Wakes me up at four a.m. and sits me on the beach awaiting sunrises like the one this morning…
Working practically 24 hours a day, every day for the last six months has exhausted me. It was “good” work, but consuming work — for anything I do, I relentlessly pour my entire self into. And I am tired! Or I WAS tired. Even sol can get stuck in a rut. I realize this only now, when the end is in sight, and I can feel the exceptional lust for life, like the sun, rising out of me again.
Time. Time to collect on what I’ve been working for. Time to be alone. Time to bask in my freedom again. Time to read. Time to watch. Time to travel. Time to breath. Time to slow down. Time to live every minute for myself again. (And time to blog again!) The next five months are mine. And it’s time to fly.
And speaking of flying…I made my first catch on the flying trapeze this weekend! Check it out…
  
  
  
(If you’re wondering what the heck I was doing on the flying trapeze, you’ll have to wait. For the “Living Club Med” essay is one of those that can only composed outside of the compound, when reality can finally be discerned from this Dominican Disneyland.)