None of those felt right. None of them really spoke to me tonight.
I've been focusing more on being a Writer lately, and less on being a writer. It's enjoyable, and certainly a good stretch for the old gray matter, but I've been missing my proverbial roots and decided it was time to take my own advice, at least for today. Who knows what twists and turns tomorrow may bring. At the rate I'm going I could find myself taking up playwriting!
When it came right down to it, I just didn't feel like being serious and philosophical this week. What I really wanted to do was to shout from the rooftops that my husband and I will be taking our first-ever child-free vacation in just a few short weeks. So that's what I'm going to do:
IN JUST A FEW SHORT WEEKS MY HUSBAND AND I WILL BE GOING ON VACATION ALONE FOR THE FIRST TIME IN SEVEN YEARS!
My parents are finally retired and will at long last be coming for a visit that is long enough to allow us to leave for a bit while they stay with the kids. They've been offering to do it for years, but for a variety of reasons the time was never right (kids too small, new baby arrived, vacation too short, it was always something). This time, next month (!), we are finally getting the chance. We will have an entire, blissful week all to ourselves, and as the icing on the cake we will be having it somewhere in Europe. We've had a night or two here and there (even a weekend a few months ago), but this is the first honest to goodness we've even got to fly to get there vacation we've had since our first child arrived on the scene six and a half years ago.
We're consumed with that most difficult of dilemmas - where to go. (I know, so shoot me.) Should it be Barcelona? Everyone loves it, but everyone also knows someone who's been ripped off there. Do I really want to spend my one week of freedom worrying that someone's going to snatch my bag? Should it be Ireland? I've always wanted to go there, but it sounds awfully cold and rainy in November. Florence would be divine as long as the weather holds (November is apparently Europe's rainiest month by far, just my luck.) Are we really sure that Thailand is too far to go for a week? (Yes, it is.) Does it really cost upwards of $4000 to fly to the Seychelles for some warm weather? (Yes, it does.)
Barcelona or Florence? Stay in a city the whole week? Rent a car and combine city with quaint little villages? Portugal? (Hard to get to as we'd have to go via Spain.) Turkey? (No thanks, I'll save that for some summer when we can go down the coast. I've already been to Istanbul and spent 4 lifetimes in Ankara.) Hotel, pensione, or holiday apartment? How budget do we want (or not want) to go? (I'm thinking definitely somewhere at least comfortable, in case the weather's awful.)
My poor husband, the "must analyze and plan every last detail" guy, is beside himself. We've said we'll hold off until the last minute to decide and then just go wherever the sun is shining, but he's having a hard time trusting that there will be a deal to be found and that all will be well. In fact, I suspect if I went over and looked at his laptop this very minute (he's on vacation this week for Sukkot) that I'd find him scanning all sorts of airfare and travel websites, hoping for that bolt of inspirational lightning to strike.
But you know what? It doesn't matter. The specifics just don't matter all that much to me. Wherever we go we will have a wonderful time, because we'll be there together, on our own, just spending time together and reconnecting. (Did I mention this one was without the kids???) Half the fun is the discovery that awaits around the next bend, whether that discovery is as basic as what country to go to, or as simple as what to order for lunch. The joy is in the journey itself. And the hours of fantasizing beforehand? That brief moment before you've committed when all is possible? Priceless. Simply priceless. Why rush it?