Remember Saturday mornings when you were kid? Here was mine...
First I would be woken up by my older sister (always the early riser). Then, I would stagger into the living room in my footie pajamas rubbing my eyes. There would sit my parents in their matching, uncomfortable wingback chairs reading the newspaper. I'd climb in my mom's lap and pretend to read the paper too. She'd tell me to stretch my toes out and try and touch the bureau drawers located approximately four feet away. She said it would make me taller, and I believed her.
Dad would see that everyone was awake and head into the kitchen to make a huge breakfast, which included every assortment of artery clogging meat, protein, and morning confection you could imagine. For moi: two eggs over easy, two pieces of bacon, two sausage links, a glass of milk, and a cinnamon roll from the middle of the pan. I refused to eat the inferior edge rolls.
After breakfast we would all scatter, but for that first hour of the day, every Saturday morning, we were a family. One of those great sitcom families. Albeit a sitcom where the five year old eats her eggs over easy, but still. It was a different time. A better time.
Things are so different now. Until recently Saturday mornings were just another work day for me. I would grab a cup of coffee and head into the office to work on whatever freelance work I currently had on my plate. I never had a day off.
Now, I have realized I need a day off. Two in fact. Saturday and Sunday. Like every other red-blooded American. My fiance has to work Saturdays, so I can't recreate the calm togetherness of my youth, but I can for damn sure relax for a bit before I start my day.
This morning, it is a cup of coffee and some homemade biscotti. That's right. HOMEMADE biscotti. The agenda for today you ask?
Ben, the aforementioned intended, doesn't believe me. He knows me too well. As soon as I am finished typing this blog, I will begin straightening the things on my desk. Then I will notice that the desk really ought to be dusted. By the end of the day, the house will be spotless, the yard will be manicured, the driveway will be repaved, and I will be complaining about NEVER HAVING A DAY OFF! I know; I have issues.
Speaking of days off, I have finally done it. I am taking a vacation. Six glorious days and five glorious nights in Hilton Head. I haven't been on vacation for eight years. Now that I think of it, I have been saying, "I haven't been on vacation for eight years" for three years now. You do the math. I was an English major.
I have been all over the country in the last few years. I have even been to places that have a beach. Even put my feet in the sand. But work-related travel, does not constitute a vacation. Unless, you wake up every day for more than three days with nothing on the agenda except laying on the beach, listening to the waves, with a fruity little drink in your hand, you are not on vacation. Period.
More on my vacation planning to come....