Wednesday, June 30, 2010

Rumor has it I was on vacation...

I have a confession to make. I don't mean to sound ungrateful, but sometimes I look forward to coming home from vacation. This is more likely if I've been sharing a hotel room with my children and I'm tired of having to go to sleep at a reasonable hour. Or I'm tired of them keeping me awake past my bedtime. Or I'm tired of living in a space that resembles their bedrooms. If the beach is factored in to this equation it's even worse because I grow weary of dumping sand out of bathing suits, and shorts, and towels, and shoes, and buckets, and chairs. I find sand in the tub, on the carpet, and in my bed. Everywhere I turn there's a body scrub waiting to happen.

Regardless of whether I'm looking forward to the return to my daily routine or I'm dreading settling back into my ho-hum existence, the exit strategy is always the same for me. Once I've decided it's time to go, I want to go NOW. No lolly-gagging. No dragging it out. All the dirty clothes get shoved into one suitcase, everything else gets packed willy-nilly, and we toss it all haphazardly into the van. Then we all fall asleep and leave Rob to the driving, though I occasionally I stir to ask him if he's still awake.

Within moments of arriving at our heavenly abode, the reality of home sets in again:
  • A week's worth of laundry even if you've only been gone for two days
  • Sorting out everything that was thrown willy-nilly into any old suitcase
  • The stench in the bathroom where someone forgot to flush the toilet
  • Dog pee in the tv room; poop in the basement
  • The dust and hair bunny family waiting at the front door 
  • The ensuing allergy attack compliments of the dust bunnies, dog, cat, and guinea pig
  • 238 work emails and 5 office messages, 57 personal emails and 2 phone messages (the percentage of which are not junk? Maybe 5%)
  • The stack of daily newspapers reminding you of how much bad stuff happened while you were living in fantasy land
  • The stack of bills letting you know how much you owe from your trip to fantasy land
  • The sand that followed you home and is now pouring out of every suitcase, towel, bathing suit, shoe...
I have officially been home for 3 hours and 23 minutes. I've sneezed 62 times. And, you guessed it, I need a vacation. But this time, I'm going to go as my nephew William. This kid does vacation right!

2 comments:

Mark said...

Outstanding. I am going away for 48 hours and have exactly the same trepidation. I'm already thinking about the nonsense of returning home and I'm not even packed yet.

Joe Gonzalez said...

ha, yep for me its all about the carrying, packing and unpacking of the stinking van over and over and over again...where did we get all this stuff!