Vacation Fiction Day 1 -- It's Five O'Clock Somewhere -- Alan Jackson and Jimmy Buffett

I've seen the same four walls for 93 days straight. My wife is one room over, fighting with her boss over a report that no one will ever read about a product no one will ever buy. The kids have finished what they're pretending is school these days, and they were fussing about whether to watch Disney or PBS.

It wouldn't take much to open that box hidden in my underwear pile and simply lubricate this problem away. I'm not an alcoholic, after all, haven't had much of anything to drink since college. It was always more fun to watch the other idiots get drunk than spend the next morning hugging the toilet myself.

Nah. Alan does have a point; I think I need a vacation, and now's just as good as a time as any. Click on Skype here, and send the boss "Feeling sick; need to take the rest of the day off". I close the laptop before he can respond.

"Kids, grab a basketball and your mother, and let's go up to the park"