I ran away from home this week, sort of.
For the first time in nearly 30 years, I took a vacation without a child or a husband (or both) in tow.
It was a fairly last-minute decision and one made out of necessity rather than luxury.
As I've said before, I'm always on the go, often taking on more than I can handle, while at the same time getting a rush from the challenge of it all.
It's worked out pretty well for most of my life, but during the past year, it's really started to take a toll.
My body is falling apart.
My insomnia is worse.