Twenty-five hours.

And then this break is over. I'm sure you know how that feels - the last day of a long break, when reality and guilt over not doing anything productive start to creep in and you do your best to rationalize all of the lazy decisions of the week... Right? Surely it's not just me. Can't be.

Things I did do: catch up with all my Manhattan girls (okay, minus one who's way out in the wild wild west), catch up with my Wichita girls, hold my friend's beautiful daughter, laugh with mom, tear apart and then start to reconstruct my wedding gown (with lots of help), get crushed at Scrabble, turn down a free beer because 6 AM was just a little too early for me, run run run, remember why Fort Riley boys turn me off, get creative with the wedding photographer hunt, get not-so-creative (creative may be code for "thrifty"...) with the reception site hunt, hug my fiance, sleep and sleep, read ridiculous magazines like OK!, forget my flat iron, think I lost my keys, laundry, more laundry, watch "Walk the Line", and relax.

Pretty much.