My week in Vegas was different, to say the least. I was ready to come back home because I missed the husband and the kids. I also knew I had a pile of work waiting for me. Since being back, I’ve been working and then I work a little more. That one free hour I have is spent sleeping…with one eye open and yawning out orders to my imaginary friend.  I call this friend: ”The Assistant.”

I have been so busy lately that my writing has somehow been shuffled to the side, buried beneath a few To Do List’s, old bubble gum wrappings,  and an old George Michael cassette tape. (Don’t laugh. He still could marry me one day.) My writing (or lack of thereof) has been on my mind a lot. I’ve been trying to find time to write in my blog, finish my book and remain somewhat sane. (Speaking to imaginary friends isn’t helping.) Today, a good friend of mine called~ out of the blue~ to say hi. Ironically, he said he felt compelled to call and tell me that I shouldn’t let life get so busy that I stop writing. He missed my entries and thought I had true talent.

Just to make sure, I checked my caller ID. Sure enough, it was an In Real Life friend and not one I imagined. You’d be surprised how often I get them confused. It is the darnest thing.

Last week, I met Jack Canfield. While most of the other consultants were going completely gaga over the half naked Chippendale dancers that roamed around at the convention, I was busy blabbering about Jack Canfield. Like OH MY! HE TOTALLY REMEMBERED MY NAME!  HE LIKE TOTALLY AUTOGRAPHED TWO COPIES OF HIS BOOK. TO. ME! LIKE. HE. WAS. TOTALLY. HOT. WITH. INTELLECT. AND LIKE HE TOTALLY GAVE ME A HUG. AND HE TOTALLY DID. NOT. SMELL. LIKE. OLD. SPICE.

He smelled like Success.

I couldn’t stop talking about my one minute conversation with Jack Canfield. To hear me tell it, we were the best of friends, making a date for pedicures and sharing success stories over a skinny vanilla latte with a hint of peppermint at Starbucks. You know, like friends do.

 At one point, a very handsome, muscular male ”dancer”, kept stopping by our table to ask questions about Alaska. His game face was off (I was out of one dollar bills) and he asked very thought provoking questions, such as “Do you live in an igloo?” and “Is your red meat in burgers moose meat? Or can Alaskans eat cows?”

 <insert sigh here>

Did I mention to you that the highlight of my trip was that one time when I met Jack Canfield and he was everything Chicken Soup should be?