We had one good day of sun on our vacay--and I took full advantage of it. Despite wincing glances from everyone at the beach at my lobster-esque appearance, I was determined to come home with a tan.
The problem with sunburns is that you never know how truly crispy you are until you get home and survey the damage. Then you REALLY find out once you hop in the shower.
But the kicker is trying to sleep.
One minute you feel like your skin is going to burn off, like an ant under a magnifying glass. You can't get comfortable, and you strip all the sheets off of your skin--you can't bear to have anything touching you. You open the window before you drift off in hopes that a small breeze will have pity on you and cool your spontaneously combusting outer layer.
Then you wake up in the middle of the night freezing your ass off. Your teeth are chattering, you have goosebumps, and you grasp frantically for the blankets to cover yourself. You instantly regret going to bed with the window open, and wish you could gather the courage to come out from your down comforter burrito for the ten seconds it will take to close it.
But let me tell you that when I finally awoke the morning after to a golden complexion staring me back in the mirror, (I tried to ignore the raccoon eyes) the night of fitful sleep was entirely worth it. Come on, you can't come home from vacation without a tan. It's blasphemy.