so tired, so excited

Finally, my much-needed vacation has arrived. I've been scrambling to carry out all those things you have to carry out prior to departure ... killing myself to get five-days' worth of work done in two, meeting deadlines that will expire while I'm out, finding a substitute for my class (someone will call me back, right?), setting up appointments that will follow my return, wrapping up monthly HOA duties and attending last-minute meetings, all the while praying, fasting, and figuring out how in the world I want to respond to an out-of-the-blue job offer. And that's just the beginning.

There's the household chores/goals: leave house clean, get laundry done, locate suitcases (where have they wandered off to?--a sure sign that we haven't used them in far too long), print itineraries, check-in online, set up DVR to record The Office, OC, and Gray's (a must), take out garbage, charge camera battery, send birthday cards, use all veggies in fridge for dinner tonight ... what am I forgetting? I'm already overwhelmed and I haven't even started the hassle that is packing your suitcases. I'm destined to forget something, everything. Am I the only wife that is responsible for remembering her husband's toothbrush?

Somehow, in the whirlwind of it all, I find time to blog. It's one hundred percent true that you make time for the things you want to do. My blog is one hundred percent fun (for me): it's just me being me, and for that reason, because there are no expectations, it alleviates the stress that builds up like a load of bricks on my weakling of a back. Maybe I don't even have reason to be stressed. Curtis tells me I get stressed too easily for my age. I think Mom and sisters would agree.

This time, it's not a massage I'm after. I'm living for visions of Max's round, five-month-old cheeks; my reunion with Jamie who I miss so much it hurts; me trying to like the buttery taste of Lobster (again); baking a pumpkin pie in a Boston condo on a rainy day with all four sisters and brothers-in-law and Mom and Dad; in true little-sister fashion, Lane reading a scary short story to me before bed like she did during our last Thanksgiving sleepover in New York, and me rampaging H&M and whatever little boutiques I happen upon--all in the company of Curtis, the best traveling companion.

There's also the Revolutionary War historical sites (The Red Coats are coming! Which coat should I bring?); the cemeteries (weird but true: I've got a thing for old cemeteries; the print impressions on an antiquated headstone excite/ignite me); the opportunity to rub shoulders with smarties from MIT and Harvard in Faneuil Hall, and the rare chance to forget for FIVE WHOLE DAYS about the matters at home needing attention.

There are the things you regrettably let slide--crocheted beanie with cute owl applique for Max remains unfinished, shoepeg corn for Ashley remains unpurchased, new set of contacts remain un-ordered and un-picked up. It might be glasses for me. Oh well. We're off. I can't wait to see this aerial view of Boston tomorrow. Hoping one of us gets a window seat.