a history of me

Can you believe I've been sitting in the sun for almost a week now with barely any pigment to prove it? It seems that "working on one's tan" is an apt description of the process. I foolishly assumed that I could just sit there and my skin would simply color itself, but I was wrong. I suspect the main problem might be my sunscreen. Fearing a burn, I bought some SPF 45 lotion which has apparently shielded me completely from the sun's radiation. Keep in mind that when I sun myself I don't read or do anything besides sun myself, so all the time I spent out there I literally did nothing. It's a good thing I spent time with my mom and Mike or this vacation could be considered a waste.

I suppose I'm eager to return to the frosty rigors of New York and get back to school. Initially I needed the extra rest this trip brought me, but the last few days I've found myself waking up earlier and earlier. It seems that I can only take so much idleness and maximum relaxation apparently has a saturation point; proof that Florida is a lovely place to visit but I wouldn't want to live here.