First, my apologies for the long silence. A full-time job, an intensive graduate program and a house that seems to be falling down around my ears are the culprits, and with a family wedding, a baptism (I’m a godmother. Yay!) coming up, the next few months promise to be even more insane.
But I’ll do better. I promise…I know, I know, you’ve heard it all before. I am taking an actual travel-writing class this semester, however, so I will have NO excuse.
My crazy schedule had me thinking, though, about the importance of having a vacation to look forward to. I don’t know how so many Americans (70 percent, according to some recent estimates!) can waste their vacation days. For months, the only thing that’s kept me from running down the street screaming is the thought of my upcoming vacation in Aruba.
My husband, John, and I honeymooned in Aruba in September 2008, and just thinking about the laid-back island life and its friendly, welcoming people – the two missing women are, in my opinion, a tragic aberration – is enough to make me smile and instantly relax. When a contractor’s $13,000 estimate made me gasp in horror, for example, I thought about its white sand beaches and narrowly avoided fainting.
When the county and my HOA gave me yet more trouble over the growing pond of standing water/ice in front of my house and ignored my calls, I reached for a glass of wine and imagined I was sipping a rum-and-vodka-laced, umbrella-toting Aruba Ariba (Click here for a recipe.), I no longer cared…for about five minutes, anyway.
And while I wrote frantically for class at 1 a.m. (I wake up for work at 5:30.), I thought of stretching out on a desk chair, lazily taking notes and staring at the deep-turquoise blue sea.
I don’t know what we’ll do when we get there. If I didn’t need writing material, I’d be happy to do nothing but doze in the sun and sip Aruba Aribas.
All that matters is that I won’t be here. For five glorious days, I can forget everything.
Now if only March would hurry up and get here.