When you didn’t hear from me after my last post, you probably thought me and a rough-and-rotten labor-camp spawn had let our souls fly, right? [“We Both Go Down Together?” I should have made reference to that song before the trip.]
Well, that would have been romantic. But no, I just literally had the most overworked month of my life. Between developing major spider veins and a new caffeine addiction at the Barn, glueing myself to my desk at the day job, and occasionally having a social life (not even lying), I have had time for absolutely nothing. Sitting down to write the blog never happened. And that’s sad, because the post-trip bliss was pretty surreal, and I don’t feel like I really got to properly share that with anyone. I would have shared it with you, NERers. Only you.
Now we’re in this predicament. I want to write the musical recap of 2012 that I’ve been drafting in my head while driving to work. I still need to tell you about the all-British hottie lineup on my TV this year. Then there’s the trip, of course, and crossing some more stuff off the 26 List. And posting in-depth about SKYFALL and how it rocked my world.
But, you see, the world is ending next week.
And that clearly means there isn’t enough time to do it all, because I’m still working like a maniac. (Which, I should just walk off the job, because why waste my last 7 days not eating, drinking, sexing and Netflixing my way to oblivion?)
In lieu of it all, I’ll give you, vast interwebs, this honest and unbiased suggestion:
If you only have one week left, and you’ve never seen a Bond movie in your life,