ZZZZZZZZ...Wha...No, Mom, I Don't Wanna Get Up...Oh, Good Morning Honey.

I must apologozie. I missed posting yesterday's CAWOW! I promise to pick up just where a left off with the series next week. I have no other excuse than I am utterly and totally beat these days. It occurs to me that 'beat' may have different connotations in countries other than the US, so to my friends in South Africa, Canada, the UK, Korea, and everywhere else, it means I'm fucking exhausted. Worn out. I considered popping some toothpicks in to prop open my eyelids last night and draft an entry for my faithful CAWOW! lovers, but we're out of toothpicks, so I hit the sack instead.

I feel as though for the past month I've been:

-Working Sunday through Thursday, my typical work week.
-Coming home from work and cleaning.
-Catering to my gimpy husband whose leg injury is going to lead to his death. By murder. Just kidding.
-Working on my days off because I'm responsible for the groups I book at our hotel, so I like to at least show face when they arrive. Aaaand, since summer groups are primarily here on the weekends, there goes about 5 out of 8 of my Fridays and Saturdays.

All of this boils down to:

-I need a vacation in a bad way.
-I'm sleepy.
-I've managed to *do* all of the laundry, but putting it away has been the bane of my existence. So, we're living out of clothes baskets right now.
-There is a serious lackage of Zube Girl down time. I always feel odd and off when I don't get the chance to hang out with myself. I like to check in and see how I'm doing and stuff. It's good for me.

All that said, the summer is winding down, and our slow season is quickly approaching. After Labor Day, we are DEAD at work. I can't wait. Only 'Dead at Work' is often followed not too long after by the 'First Snow of the Year'. I could do without that for a little longer, but oh well. It's the time of year when all the locals are proclaiming themselves weather experts and pontificating about how this will be the "Best Year of Snow EVAH, Dude!" Yeah. I've lived in a ski resort town for almost six years, and I've heard this every August. It's kind of funny.

In summation, locals are an optimistic breed. Take it sleazy, people!