Peaceing Out For A Mo’

Funny story: you know yesterday’s post? The not-very-long one that doesn’t even include the links it’s supposed to and almost certainly has weird typos or formatting issues (I wouldn’t know; a little blue line that enjoys sticking at the 17% mark appears whenever I try to look at it, and one thing I am REALLY sick of looking at is a little blue line that is stuck at the 17% mark).

It took me THREE DAYS to get it up.

I am assuming that somewhere in Cabo San Lucas there is internet, largely because Jennifer Aniston spends a lot of time here and I’d imagine she probably needs to check her email every once and awhile just to see whether she got richer somehow). But there is no internet here, on my ship. (I paid for internet on my ship. I think the effort required for it to dock overwhelmed its senses, and it can no longer handle additional requests.)

So, in the service of my sanity (and assuming nothing miraculous transpires in the Internet-having category over the next couple of days), let’s consider me the metaphorical equivalent of the photo of my children buried in the sand that you can see on my instagram, but that I cannot post here because Cabo Problems.

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