my happy place
i'm getting to this weird place where all i want to do is work, or vacation. i don't want to grab a drink for happy hour, or go out saturday night. i don't want to talk about why 45 is an idiot, or the latest in shoe trends. i just want to build this brand, lay another brick toward this empire, or be on the beach. drunk. getting my feet rubbed. that's it. no in between. obviously, bee fits in there. but legit, that's all i want. wake up on a beach front property, breakfast in bed, work on the laptop from my plush floating bed, tan & drink white sangria all day, dance & drink tequila all night. rinse & repeat.
the thought of getting "dressed" for drinks is overwhelming. i just need a swim up bar in my infinity pool. #getdressedforwhat? when i'm all drained from the sun, i want to take a shower, throw on a sun dress with no undergarments, eat fresh fruit & summer salads while watching the sunset over the valley.
in the mean time... back to this work!