My summer tour has come to an end.
All of the complaining about airports, sleepless nights in uncomfortable hotel beds, and borderline diabetic food options (without a trace of leafy greens) will come to an end.
What will I complained about now?
Good question;
Most likely I'll moan about my dwindling bank account, because as much as I loath 14 hour days on the road—my pockets really appreciate the jingle.
For now, I'll find bliss on my butt, binge-watching Netflix while detoxing on lettuce, apples, and water with lemon.
After a week of irresponsible bum-like behavior I'm confident that my Type-A personality will demand that I motivate and make things happen.
That's the trouble when you're an overachiever; it's impossible to stop pushing.
So I'll find my Zen in yoga, and start the whole process again.
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