rising from the reams of copy paper

Re-acclimating to reality has not been fun. Back in the saddle: week two started at the crack of dawn this morning. Actually it wasn't even dawn yet because it was pitch black outside.

Needless to say, I am still buried under thirteen stories of neglected work. I keep hoping to see the end but alas I am not quite that lucky. yet. Holiday was fun but so much has happened since I returned to U.S. soil.

And the fun started as soon as I was literally on U.S. terra because at 5:30 in the morning, the U.S. immigration officer actually hit on me! Typically, those officer people are no nonsense and lack a personality. Not this guy. In my disheveled, been on a plane for 17 days freshness, the officer asks, "So, home is the Mile High City?" I give the brilliant answer, "yes." He swipes my passport through the fancy-dancy reader and says, "That's too bad. You cleared the system so I can't keep you here, even though I would really like too." Being half asleep, again moving before the crack of dawn, I couldn't muster a witty response because I was mortified at his non-official talk. So instead I muttered something about just being happy to be home. Obviously, I am quite out of practice and fairly useless without caffeine coursing through my veins.

However, there are stories to come, but I need to pay my mortgage first. But I know y'all will be patient because there is an especially juicy tale of Montana Man adventures just waiting to be told