Vacation, all I ever wanted......
After months of anticipation, the vaca is just around the corner. OK, starts in Houston, actually. I'm going on a cruise. To Mexico. With my family.
It's hard not to be excited about any activity that involves wretched excess, so I confess: I am excited. I am excited that I can spend 8 days away from the hellhole that is my job. I am excited that for 8 days, I do not have to drive, cook, clean, or whip out a bank card. I am excited that I will lie on the beach in Cozumel like a big white frickin' whale, and let a cabana boy bring me endless Pacifico cervezas. I am excited that I will have an hour and a half massage on the beach in Roatan. I am excited that I get to get dressed up for dinner and cocktails at least twice on this trip.
I am not excited about the weather forcast. Fucking hurricane season. Tropical depressions, sitting right over where the lovely NCL Sea will be sailing. The forecast calls for rain. Oh well. It's still better than work.
I am not excited about being, romantically speaking, alone. A life of fantasies involving hotstickynastysex while on a tropical vacation will yet again fail to become reality. Oh well. It's still better than work.
I am not excited about spending a week with my family. I love them, but I'll be crazy by Wednesday. And they will all expect me to be the responsible sister, and make sure dad has a good time, and stay with dad while the rest o' the gang goes cave tubing and speedboat racing. Fuckers. Oh well. It's still better than work.
Lordy, bitching about a vacation. Who do I think I am? I've been either witness to, or victim of, several reality checks lately.....and yet I continue to think that I am deserving of all the special parting gifts.
I am going to have an amazing good time. I'm almost 40 years old, and I think I'm finally accepting of the balance. That you can stand on the top deck of the ship and look at the moon and stars and feel the breeze and have a glass of champagne in your hand and feel wonderful---and also feel empty because you are alone and you don't want to be. Balance. Good and bad, they always walk holding hands. I'm working on balancing. It's still better than work.
After months of anticipation, the vaca is just around the corner. OK, starts in Houston, actually. I'm going on a cruise. To Mexico. With my family.
It's hard not to be excited about any activity that involves wretched excess, so I confess: I am excited. I am excited that I can spend 8 days away from the hellhole that is my job. I am excited that for 8 days, I do not have to drive, cook, clean, or whip out a bank card. I am excited that I will lie on the beach in Cozumel like a big white frickin' whale, and let a cabana boy bring me endless Pacifico cervezas. I am excited that I will have an hour and a half massage on the beach in Roatan. I am excited that I get to get dressed up for dinner and cocktails at least twice on this trip.
I am not excited about the weather forcast. Fucking hurricane season. Tropical depressions, sitting right over where the lovely NCL Sea will be sailing. The forecast calls for rain. Oh well. It's still better than work.
I am not excited about being, romantically speaking, alone. A life of fantasies involving hotstickynastysex while on a tropical vacation will yet again fail to become reality. Oh well. It's still better than work.
I am not excited about spending a week with my family. I love them, but I'll be crazy by Wednesday. And they will all expect me to be the responsible sister, and make sure dad has a good time, and stay with dad while the rest o' the gang goes cave tubing and speedboat racing. Fuckers. Oh well. It's still better than work.
Lordy, bitching about a vacation. Who do I think I am? I've been either witness to, or victim of, several reality checks lately.....and yet I continue to think that I am deserving of all the special parting gifts.
I am going to have an amazing good time. I'm almost 40 years old, and I think I'm finally accepting of the balance. That you can stand on the top deck of the ship and look at the moon and stars and feel the breeze and have a glass of champagne in your hand and feel wonderful---and also feel empty because you are alone and you don't want to be. Balance. Good and bad, they always walk holding hands. I'm working on balancing. It's still better than work.