I Was the Best Me, I Was the Worst Me

I have so much work to do. I'm back from my ski trip to Breckenridge. I don't want to work...I slept 9 hours last night in my own bed (which felt so good), but I'm still exhausted from the trip. And all I want to do is think about it, remember it, savor it. I don't want to cloud my mind with car advertising. I want to think about snow and carving down the mountain and the new people I met and the laughs I had. So I'm writing this blog instead of working...I just can't jump back into the "real" world yet.

If it's possible to be the best and worst version of yourself simultaneously, I was. I felt so alive: I was totally free, brave, charming, encouraging, affectionate, giving, funny. In turn, I was absolutely reckless, deceitful, crass, tired, drunk and hung over. Regardless, it was one of the best trips I've ever been on. I don't know if I could fully explain why. Partly because I was with my two oldest and best friends, partly because I was a bad ass on the slopes and the snow was perfect for being so, partly because of all the memories, no matter how crazy, that were made.

I won't ever forget this trip. It might have changed me even. It's too early to tell. But now I have to get back to what is, I'm told, "reality".