oh I wish I had a suntan

Spent the weekend down the coast and oh, be careful what you wish for! The suntan is more of an embarrassing sunburn and I'm feeling far more Jane than Joan in the office at the moment. (so where's my silver fox in this scenario?)

Still I guess I don't regret it too much since there's not much more I'd rather do in the summertime than swim and lie on the beach reading classic California noir from Raymond Chandler. Sandy feet and daydreams of Elliott Gould as Marlowe, yeah, things could be worse.