Missing in Action

I know . . . you're all wondering . . . what the heck happened to you, MrsChako?

I thought about various excuses I could give . . .

1. I was abducted by aliens, eager to understand the professional female mind. They were disappointed and, frankly, shocked by some of what they learned and sent me back.
2. I ran away to Mexico, to start over, like some famous, eclectic, American recluse. But then I missed my bed. The grocery store. And I found out I should not say "si" to every question, especially when I don't remember certain vocabulary from college Spanish (or maybe they didn't teach those words . . . )
3. I accepted an undercover assignment for an unnamed, covert security operation. I could tell you what it was . . . but then I'd have to kill you.
4. DrChako put a hit out on me. Except he told the guy "I want you to take my wife out." And when the guy saw how hot I was, he "took me out." But hit men aren't good dates . . . and then I found out DrChako got a job . . . so I came back.
5. I was admitted to the insane asylum. After being there a week, I realized that I work and live with crazy people every day. Who look and smell better. I discharged myself - now I just gotta find someone to dispense my meds . . .

The real story is much less glamorous . . . a busy week of work, out of town. Trying to do two things at once. Coming home to play catch up. Taking over a new client that our previous team had neglected . . .

Today, I found my first bit of breathing room. Still have work to do. But I wasn't expected in the office. So I have essentially done . . . well, nothing.

Nothing sure feels good.

Back in the game!

Respectfully submitted,

The Wife