We had big plans for the summer. Move to a swanky new neighborhood. Take a beach vacation. Use the hours upon hours of free time that summer brings to read the 18 books that are sitting on my shelf unread. "YES," I tell myself, "maybe I'll even take time for me."  I envisioned sand between my toes and not even caring that I never made it to the gym to prep for the beach. I envisioned me, at the ocean's edge, with perfect beach hair, perfect swimsuit (that does not look like a sausage casing), and sea glass around my neck. ...