Almost perfect weekend

I had what seemed to be an absolute perfect weekend.

A special someone and I spent the entire day together Saturday. It began with brunch at Strawberry St. Next there was a leisurely day around the city which included a stroll on Belle Isle. She's never been to Belle Isle, so she loved it! The weather was absolutely perfect to boot. Later there was homemade dinner, a brief but magical show, and drinks to follow.

I woke up the next morning barely early enough to catch my 07:30 flight to Chicago. Its fucking cold here. So cold, in fact, that is snowing on and off. I'm beyond tired, having slept 3 hours in the bed and just 1 on the plane, I'm about ready to fall down. Including the 2 hours of eating, I've been on the clock for 16 hours so far. Secretly, I love this shit! I want to just grab a beer and watch the Giants kick the shit out of the Eagles. Oh well. My Muddy Buddy Brother is going to owe me some dinner next time I see him!

Apparently I get vulgar when tired. My apologies!