Phoenix is in the desert. It was 83 degrees here today at the end of November. And it’s dry. I made the mistake today of being so involved in putting on a national convention that I didn’t take time all day to have a single drink or a bite to eat. Now as I get ready to think about getting some sleep, my lips are gnarled and twisted like an old mummy and my eyeballs feel like they’ve been rubbed with sandpaper.
When they tell you to drink a lot of water in the desert, by all means do so. Even if the water costs $4.25 a bottle like it does here in the hotel.
