This week, I'm going on vacation. A real, honest-to-goodness, no one but me and the husband vacation. Why is this mention-worthy? Because it's been eleven years since the husband and I went away together by ourselves. Fourteen, if you consider that I was six months pregnant with the second child (AKA, the Diva) on the trip eleven years ago. Now, I haven't been completely travel-free, obviously, since then. Because we lived away from both our families for many years, any time we had off, we generally had to dedicate to trips home to see the family. Then, we finally caved and moved back to Florida so we could be closer to family and wouldn't have to spend all our vacations on family trips and wouldn't you know it? The husband's work schedule and mine rarely coincided. Which is really pathetic when you consider I'm a full-time writer and I work from home. But there was always a conference or a research trip and then I was working, working, working, because I love nothing more than working. A vacation? What's that? It's an imposition and time that would be taken away from working—what if I get a great idea and I can't work on it? What if? What if? What if?
Hi, I'm Barb and I'm a workaholic Virgo.
Thing is, I'm getting rather crispy 'round the edges. I'm frustrated with the project I'm working on and I'm tense waiting for my next round of revisions and all sorts of things I've never been before with respect to writing. So I know I need a break. I know I need to get out of my cozy little environment and shake up my surroundings and just get out and see new things and, you know, other people, and get out of my routine. Because I'm just self-aware enough to know that change can be the best inspiration and motivator. And the irony is I love travel and adventure and seeing new places and things. But I'm a Virgo, through and through and practically have to be pried out of my Aeron chair with a crowbar. And the husband, God love him, is the ultimate homebody—he'd be happy to hang out at home in his sweats on a vacation, so he's not going to be the one with the initiative.
But again, thank goodness for self-awareness and that Virgo thing, because another very Virgo trait of mine is I loathe wallowing. So when it looked like I might be headed straight for a good old-fashioned wallow, I finally did something about it. And we're going on vacation. Somewhere neither of us has ever been—San Diego. That picture above? That's our view.
And no, I won't be answering the phone.
So what do you do when you finally find yourself hitting the breaking point? Or are y'all a whole lot smarter than I am and actually have lives?