Camping was HOT. Holy-Crap hot. Speedos-Aren't-A-Good-Idea-Unless-You're-Michael-Phelps, hot. Thong-Bikini-Bottoms-Are-NEVER-A-Good-Idea-Oh-My-God-That-Image-Will-Be-Burned-Into-My-Retinas-Forever, hot.
And I forgot my bathing suit.
You know, this should not surprise me. The last TWO work trips I went on I forgot my glasses, which is a serious problem considering my contacts dry up like potato chips and I am blind enough to run into dark doorways because I CAN'T SEE THEM. I even forgot my glasses when I went to Mexico where the whole Grand Master Plan was to sleep in, sit on my duff and read trashy magazines. Waking up in the morning and FEELING my way to the bathroom, trying to avoid breaking my toes on every corner I couldn't see wasn't originally a part of the itinerary. But you know, it added a bit of sport to my mornings and gave me an excellent excuse to start drinking before lunch.
Kayloo had the right idea. I should have just grabbed a thong and plopped right down in the lake. My family was there though. That could have been... awkward.
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