It's Miami in July, actually.
I had a moment to breathe at home, cranked out a ton of work in short order, and this morning at the crack of dawn I was on a plane again. For now I'm in Miami, staying in a penthouse room that overlooks white sand and turquoise water. I've just ordered dinner - to be eaten on my terrace - and after taking a swim in the ocean and maybe hitting Lincoln Road, I'll likely sleep like the dead. Tomorrow my morning begins with a four-handed massage, and then Sandra and I are alternating between being poolside and oceanside with our trashy romance novels to keep us company. This should keep us busy until Saturday, at which point we're boarding a cruise ship that takes us to Haiti, St. Maarten and Mexico.
I could get used to this travel writing thing.
