That's What I Always Do on Vacation

I can't hold a pint glass in my right hand right now without my arm shaking like I'm suffering from Parkinson's.

There's a reason for all this shaking going on and it's not from neurological deterioration, or at least I hope not. Today was a boring day for the most part. I slept until lunch (after getting up before six with E and crashing with him on the couch until K's mom got up and took over around seven). We eventually got ready and took the kid to the park to play in the wading pool and ate at Panera for supper. It wasn't until we got back home that I wore my arm out.

K's mom decided around 7 p.m. that it was time to trim the spruce tree out front and cut up the fallen tree in the back, so I got off my lazy ass and fired up the chainsaw and went to work. If you've ever seen the SNL skit about the meth heads vacuuming, you can get an idea about what K's mom is like. She doesn't need meth. She already goes a hundred miles an hour and hours later than I would. She's not even allowed to drink a caffeinated beverage later than lunch because she'll be up at 2 a.m. baking or putting together baskets for her business. It's insane. Two hours later, the light waning, we called it quits and I headed out to the Brew Kettle, my favorite bar in the Cleveland area (that was my price for using deadly power tools for two hours). That's when I realized that my arm was tired as I raised my first beer to my lips and realized it was sloshing around annoyingly.

Of course I did spend most of the day with an unexplained dizziness, so maybe it is a neurological disorder after all. I'm cool with that.