This time of year, sitting behind a desk is a little like being in prison (minus the toilet bowl hooch). While a world in green waits tantalizingly on the other side of my office window, I'm trapped in a den of Fluorescent lights, stale artificial air and the hum of unknown machinery. To make matters worse my Twitter feed is increasingly becoming my siren song. Just this morning a guy I follow mentioned having donuts at a place I've been to on Solana Beach in California and it just about killed me. Man, what I'd give to be on a beach somewhere … or maybe just sitting on a mountain in Colorado. Anywhere, just as long as there's no concrete, no exhaust fumes, no hustle, no bustle, no shirt, no shoes and nothing to service.
Of course, that all takes money.
Therefore, I'll be here again tomorrow.
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