It's my last day of vacation.

It's just not okay.

It doesn't matter how much time off I have, at the end it never feels like enough.

I get anxious about what to do with what little time off I have left. And it's not like I haven't done a lot during my time off. I've done all kinds of house projects, caught up with people, relaxed, got my eyeball fixed, almost finished reading a book.

But there's more stuff I probably had time to do, but I didn't do. I wanted to write more of my memoir, start a band, be in a movie, get a tan, get abs of steel, learn to play the drums, and become a millionaire so that I can be on vacation forever.

I just don't know where all the time went.

And then it's like even after having time off, I need two more days to get myself together to go to work. And this time, I go to work at a new job. SCARY!

I'm totally freaked out, y'all. I mean, I'm excited about the job. But it's scary to start over at a new place. It took a year and a half before people figured out I am funny at my last job. I just don't have that kind of time anymore.

Also, I don't like change.

Clearly I need a few more weeks off to work through these issues.

C.T.