NEW ZEALAND, HERE I COME!

I write the letter from the editor for my account's newsletter and I do it very differently than the previous chick, who was allllllllllllll about business and being proper. I'm always tempted to c/p my letters from the editor for my blog, but am lazy or they're too worky in that you have to know the people or the things I'm talking about. This one isn't really about work at all, so here you go:

(Also: I'm cheating at actually writing a blog post instead of just posting pictures.)

(And: My flight leaves in two days, three hours and 43 minutes. I haven't packed, done laundry or prepared in any significant way, but I did find my passport.)

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I’m going on two weeks of PTO a week from today. It takes so much effort to actually get to the point where I can shut down my computer, put it in the closet and disconnect that right about now I’m alllllllmost reconsidering the whole shebang and thinking that it would be SO MUCH EASIER to just stay and go to work instead of going to New Zealand with my BFF.

EASIER, yes, but far less exciting.

(Also: I’m totally kidding. So don’t anyone get any ideas about any takesies-backsies on my PTO.)

So (assuming I can remember the very safe and hidden place I seem to have put my passport) I’m going on vacation if it kills me.

And I’m not even talking about the parts of my vacation that actually COULD kill me like:

• A ridiculously awful bungee jump that I’m only doing because I am a dedicated follower of the book of 1,000 Places to See Before You Die and if the book says I need to fling my body into a ravine and hope for the best, then that’s what I’m going to do

• A really not-like-me activity that involves a wet suit [horror #1] and hanging out in eel-infested waters [horror #2] so I can see some worms that are ALLEGEDLY amazing. Hopefully amazing enough for me to forget that I am in a mortifying outfit and potentially going to have my limbs gnawed off by eels. (I don’t even know if that’s what eels do, but in my head, they’re KILLER eels.)

OMG you guys, it’s going to be awful. Or incredible. I’m not sure yet.

Assuming I survive the trials and tribulations of actually clearing my pre-vacation work to-do list AND find my passport AND live through the 8-11 second free fall of the bungee jump (SERIOUSLY. COUNT OUT EIGHT SECONDS. IT IS LONG) AND survive a wild eel attack, then I’ll be back in time to bring you the February newsletter! Otherwise, you’ll need a new Editor in Chief.

(Girl I Work With, the account Comms Lead, *could* start soliciting backups now but I’ll ask that she please follow the rules of witnessing a perfect game in baseball: You don’t talk about a perfect game while it’s underway because you’ll jinx it. So she really shouldn’t go looking for a new EiC until I’ve *actually* been eaten by eels.)

This month’s letter from the editor that doesn’t really have much to do with worky things, in summary: I can’t find my passport, I am going on a vacation that requires more athleisure clothing than anything else, I will hopefully come back in one piece and not eaten alive by eels and ready to produce the February newsletter.

And baseball etiquette. For good measure. SPORTS!