In just three days I'll be sitting on a plane, headed to a Bestie's wedding. Sun and surf await me. Sand and heat and the occasional shot of tequila await me. The wedding is in Mexico, and will mark my first real-life vacation. Grandiose thanks to Bestie for having a destination wedding! Excitement, while present, is quieted by the busyness of final preparations, as if waiting in a queue for its turn. I joked the other day that by the time Mexico gets here, I will probably fall in a scatter of pieces out the plane door. Anita comments on this thought line:
I don’t know that adults are capable of reveling in the anticipation of going on vacation anymore – our lives are just too busy and any tasting of the excitement is left for the car ride to the airport… and even then you’re wondering if you turned the straightening iron off.
I've got my little suitcase packed with the essentials: bikini, summer dress, sandals. The growing list of things to do before I leave is sorting itself into piles: Must Do and Can Wait. I haven't done laundry in a month: Must Do. I have to clean under the stove: Can Wait. I haven't called home in awhile: Must Do. My Christmas shopping is incomplete: Can Wait.
THE FLU OF ALL FLUS is going around the office. I've had my flu shot - am I immune? Or will I spend the plane ride convulsing in the tiny bathroom? Will I loathe the beach and long for the cool porcelain of the bathroom floor? Only God knows, and only he can intervene. I can pray and drink fluids and go to bed on time. Must Do.
I am certain my calendar knows I'm going on vacation, and even more certain it's not pleased with me. Rebellion comes in the form of speeding clocks, and pen mark after pen mark after pen mark; reminders, lists, appointments, and a few failed attempts:
How blissful it will be to shut the book for awhile, to take space; to let someone else take notes and keep order while I sip dewy beverages and hold my favorite hand and watch the sun set over the ocean.