Not a Single Thing

All I have to say is – what in the hell was I thinking about on Friday! Why in the hell have I waited to go on vacation by myself?

Last night, after drinking three Phoenix beers (a local Mauritius brand), I sang along with the band, danced barefoot, and smoked cigarettes lit by one of the cute Mauritian waiters (I don’t normally smoke cigarettes. I just felt like smoking on this vacation, makes me feel grown and sexy). I woke up this morning and didn’t have to worry about being quiet in order to let other people sleep. I turned on my music, got dressed and went to breakfast where my cute waiter friend Damish was waiting with coffee and fruit. I made an appointment for a massage (uhmmm, why don’t they have bikini waxes here??), checked on possible excursions and now I’m sitting on the beach typing this. I didn’t have to organize with other folks, didn’t have to make conversation at breakfast, didn’t have to do anything but just be me. I don’t have a single thing to do. I DON”T HAVE A SINGLE THING TO DO!

Maybe most people would be intimidated by this amount of idleness, but I’ve decided that I should do this for a living. I’m loving it.

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