Hey, all you people posting happy, sundrenched Facebook pictures of your spring break trip...yes, you drinking fruity drinks in Puerto Rico, you frolicking in the sand in Palm Beach, you seeing hot Broadway shows with the family:
Because I am jealous.
Because you make spring break look effortless.
Like you twinkled your perky little noses and you were transported to said drink/beach/show.
I, too, have a trip planned for this week. I, too, want to frolic and drink fruity drinks. I don’t even like Facebook but I could be convinced to post pictures if I were ten pounds lighter, in a bikini, on a beach, with a fruity drink, brought to me by a cabana boy. I would like to be on a porch, looking at a lake, reading a book. I would like to be in a hot air balloon, despite my fear of heights.
I would like to be anywhere, and I would like the getting there part to be effortless.
But it’s not, and I haven’t even left my house.
Maybe my angst is because I am kicking the malfunctioning sump pump every ten minutes because it is raining so hard that I swear to you Noah and his ark just floated down the street.
Maybe it’s because my husband, who is usually very helpful at times like these, has the stomach flu. Did you hear me? He's a man. And he's sick. Enough said.
Maybe it’s because Jack has strep and is complaining quite a bit, though I would point out the strep was a sneak attack and his throat didn’t even hurt until the lab results came back.
Maybe it’s because Caroline is...Caroline, saying that “yes I am excited about our trip but I wish it was going to be warmer there.” (Why, honey? Did the snow in the forecast throw you? Because yes, it will snow there. Yay. More snow.)
Maybe it’s because I am still dealing with that whole, painful devil-in-my-MRI issue.
Maybe it’s because as I am cleaning the guinea pig’s cage, the dog is chasing me trying to eat the guinea pig’s poop, and thinking of another dog and another spring break trip, I am just thankful the dog isn’t trying to eat the guinea pig.
Maybe it’s because I want to twinkle my perky little nose and be transported to our destination.
I will pack. I will get gas and fill the car with luggage and ditch the guinea pig (thank you, LW) and take out the trash and turn off the A/C and water the plants and kick the damn sump pump one more time and then turn on the alarm and toss the strep kid and his antibiotics and the stomach flu guy with a barf bag and the puppy fully satiated thanks to the poop and the tween with her mind-numbing iPhone…I will toss all of them in the car, and I will drive far away.
To a lake, and a porch, and a book, and maybe even a fruity drink.
Look for me on Facebook.