Sometimes, you get to escape. You get to run away, way, way, way south of the border. You get to forget the schedules, the projects, the lack of rain, the taxi-driving, the interwebs, and unloading the dishwasher for the second time today. You get to hang with friends and that boy who, despite the hair turning grey, is still *that* boy. There might be water. There might be fishing. Maybe there will be pictures.
Or maybe there will be nothing, because the bags are not getting packed.....
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