A Case of the PRB.

As I sit here at my desk, on my last allotted break for the day, too tired to even make my way to the break room, or even outside for a short stroll due to the late night fire scare in my building last night (yes, apparently grown adults still burn shit in their kitchens and have to get the fire department involved…and then drink with their neighbors and whoop it up over all the excitement {yes, I’m looking at you neighbor directly below me} thus keeping others around them up until all hours, throat burning from the lingering smoke and smell of melted Tupperware.), I find myself having a bad case of PRB. No, not PBR. I’m not drinking a skunky case of Pabst Blue Ribbon (although, at this point in the day, even that is starting to sound better than another 100 minutes of work.). What I’ve got is PRB. Today I’m afflicted with a case of the Places I’d Rather Be. It’s clear to anyone who has seen me today that I’m suffering from the PRB. Even people who don’t really know me can tell by my restless leg shaking, constant sighs, and the glazed over look in my eye, all the classic signs of PRB. So here, dear readers, are the Places I’d Rather Be:

1. At a spa.

Not just any spa though. A spa that boasts miracle fat and cellulite reductions through intensive treatments of hot stone and deep tissue massages given by Daniel Craig look a likes and serves meals consisting of the world’s creamiest macaroni and cheese that is not only delicious, but is guaranteed to trim at least two inches off your waist (three if you add bacon to it).

2. A beach.

The beach from the movie The Beach with Leonardo DiCaprio is what I’m picturing (but not actually with Leo there. Sorry, love, I’m not 13 anymore and you’re just not my type. But please, if your friend Tom Hardy is available, feel free to send him over… with a bottomless pina coloda. And tanning oil that prevents all forms of skin cancer while giving the perfect golden glow.).

3. At a cafe in Paris.

With delicious glass of cabernet, Steve Martin’s “An Object of Beauty,” and a warm, fresh, delicious baguette (that, again, would take at least two inches of my waistline if I promise to eat all of it. With herbed goat cheese.)

4. In a magical world.

And in this magical world, when you force yourself to be brave and put yourself out there for a guy, the guy has the decency to respond to you in an acceptable period of time (i.e; not a day later).

5. In an even magical-er world.

Where guys stop acting so laid back about everything and thus never forcing you to have to be brave and put yourself out there. Yes, this is most certainly a PRB.


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