All this travel and "excitement" has really worn me down. However, I am still thinking of traveling.

Why?

Sara won't hear of it. She is done with traveling for a long while. I think that when I conjure up ideas of travel, I am dreaming of plopping myself down on a beach and not having to worry about anything. Wouldn't it be nice to be under some palm trees, sipping a pi~a colada, feeling the warm tropical breezes blow off the salty ocean without a care in the world?

That dream soon disappears as thoughts of reality rush into my head. Reality is exhausting.