Where I talk about my upcoming vacation

I woke up this morning thinking today was Friday. This is not uncommon, but, considering my plans for next week, it was doubly rough. See, next week, I’ll be on vacation — during those times that I’m used to sitting in a cubicle, or on a conference call, or wondering why I’m all alone in a conference room, I’ll either be on the beach, or in a house holding a beer, or eating ice cream.

I know I’ve written about the vacation strategy before, but I’m too lazy to look up the link. Before I met Duffy, she would vacation at Chincoteague Island with her immediate family, and her mother’s best friend and her mother’s best friend’s immediate family. They’d rent a house for a week and relax. When I came into the picture, so did a few, additional, significant others, and a bigger house had to be found. Then, we re-examined the whole definition of “family” and realized that, fuck-it, family is what you define family as, so the group grew. Instead of a single, largish house, we now rent three houses right next to each other. This year, there will be 14 adults, 7 kids, and two that rank somewhere between “kid” and “adult.”

All in all, this ends up being a pretty cheap and low-stress vacation — renting three houses isn’t cheap, but split among a bunch of people, it’s not a whole lot per couple. And, with any vacation, the big cost is food — however, each night, one couple is in charge and makes dinner for the whole crew¹, meaning that we eat really well (because we’re all looking to impress, and since we only have to worry about one night of cooking, it’s easy to put a little extra into what you’re making).

However, with vacation right around the corner, I’m going into a bit of a panic. I mean, vacation is right around the corner! I’ve barely thought about what needs to be done.

With today being Thursday, it means that I get to have lunch with Duffy & the kids², then finish up the day at work, then head to band practice, and then come home to think about packing. Fortunately, because my wife is awesome, I only, really, have to worry about packing my own stuff, which means: shorts (because I’m thoroughly anti-pants), underwear, running stuff (I’ll get to running in a bit), bathing suits (I only have two that fit me), toiletries, and shirts (there will be an explosion, of epic magnitude, of geeky t-shirts & Hawaiian shirts next week).

Tomorrow, I’ll work, head over to Duffy’s library for lunch, finish the work day (possibly at Duffy’s library, possibly at home – because I currently have a clear afternoon), head to yoga, and then home. Hopefully, the kids will head to bed early, because I want to pack the truck as much as possible Friday night, while I still have some daylight — I need to get my clothes, my wife’s clothing, the kids’ clothing, beach chairs, sand toys, and random kid entertainment devices into my truck. Saturday, we’ll go through the fridge and decide what might be consumed at the beach (throwing that in a cooler) and what needs to be thrown out, load that into my truck, load the bicycles, and then I’ll strap the bicycle trailer onto the bed of my truck (last year, we rented one, to haul the kids to & from the beach, because the trailer we have does not collapse and is a pain to move around . . . but I’m convinced that I can bring mine down safely this year, and save a decent chunk of change), praying that I don’t need to get back into the bed of my truck at all.

Once packed, I’ll shower, trim my beard to stubble, shave my head, and depart.

I’ll drive down with Duffy’s half-brother, and she’ll have the kids & some of her family members . . . it sucks to not be driving down together, but, with the amount of stuff we have to bring, and the fact that the two of us have the two largest vehicles in our herd, well, we get elected to be the drivers.

Once unpacked, though, my schedule goes out the window. Well, no, Sunday will likely have me heading to a grocery store to pick up dinner supplies for Tuesday night and lunch supplies for the week (in theory, we could get them now, and pack them along, but that’s just something else to bring to the beach with us, and we always forget something, so the grocery store trip is going to happen, anyway), but that’s the only “need to do” on my list. While at the beach, I plan to:

• Run to meet the sunrise over the ocean on at least two occasions
• Drink beer
• Splash in the waves with my kids
• Drink wine
• Swing a baseball bat futilely in batting cages
• Eat ice cream
• Drink margaritas
• Play minigolf
• Read
• Head out fishing
• Drink more beer
• Write
• Swear at mosquitoes
• Smile. A lot.

I don’t talk about my work life here – but next week is coming at just the perfect time to decompress. I’ll just leave it at that . . . heck, my “punching this person would be bad, so why don’t you just calm the fuck down” meditation has already changed from a daydream of sitting at the piano to sitting back in a breeze and inhaling saltwater fumes.

Next week, well, once I’m all unpacked, I’m hoping my most-stressful moments are when I’m trying to draw another mile out of tired legs that have not been running like they’re used to and in choosing which audiobook to listen to next (suggestions?)

While I’m gone, I’ll be posting more-often, though! Well, I won’t be posting . . . some of my best blogging friends will be here. I’m super excited about the guest lineup that I’ll be presenting over the next week . . . some voices have been here before, some other voices are new around here, but I love reading each & every one of my guest posters, and I couldn’t be happier to be hosting them.