Why did I come home again?

Really? Why did I return? It's raining here in Michigan. I fear another soupy summer when I really just want it hot and more hot. Not that it was steamy in Menorca, but from what I understand, it gets that way. And I was "offered" a job to work on a catamaran for the summer. I am not teaching, and entertained the thought briefly. Just me and Alberto surfing the Med, streaming along with the dolphins and ten English tourist aboard. I mean, really? Did I think things here were going to be better than these pics? I have tried to appease myself with thoughts of an herb garden, but it's not working, folks. And it's still bloody raining.

I wonder if Alberto found someone for that job yet?