Starting to Worry?

Good Monday morning, folks.  Let me tell you a story of trying to get some time off.  This will be another two parter. 

Last weekend, not the weekend that ended yesterday, but a week ago, Bart and I were ready to get out of town for a few days.  I hadn't told many people because things always seem to come up and stop me from getting time off.  So, the fewer people who knew, well, maybe, the fewer things would come up?  See, even you didn't know I was gone!  I had stories written in advance for you and everything.

This is where using Harry's beach house came in. Remember I told you about him dropping off the key to me?  It was in "Strange Bedfellows Part Two."  He's always willing to lend it to me.

It's not fancy, but it's very functional and right in the middle of the beach action.  Shopping, restaurants, entertainment, the beach, all of it is within a few minutes.  Of course, Harry knows that and so do Bart and I.  My staff doesn't know that.  I think that's why they were starting to worry.

It's been quite some time since I've had any substantial amount of time off.  Oh, there were a lot of trips in the fall, but they didn't really count as vacations.  Seriously, going to a funeral, a doctor's appointment, and a quick run to a business thing for Mom really aren't the same as a vacation.  I may have been getting on planes, but no vacationing was involved.

For me, a vacation is heading off to see my friends in Central America.  It's jumping off a tiny little plane on that tiny island with no cars.  It's climbing the stairs to the little cottage I rent or to a friend's guest house.  It's popping open an ice cold local beer and getting in the hammock...for days.

My body has a timer.  At the one year mark, if I don't get a real vacation that includes a hammock and sleeping the first few days away, people start to get worried about me.  This is one of those times.

I haven't been to Central America for a solid year now.  I haven't had any hammock time.  I haven't slept for days.  I haven't had my worries at least 3,000 miles away in a year.  It is not a good time to be me or to be hanging around me--except for Bart who is very good at soothing me.  I wish he'd teach a few other people his tricks..but I digress.

When this one year timer goes off in my body, I am excessively tired.  I lose my patience easily.  I snap at the staff over things I'd simply correct on a normal day.

I am not easy to be around when the one year timer goes off.  I can't control it.  Believe me, I wish I could.  I wish I could assuage the savage beast within that wakes up at the one year mark. 

At the one year mark, the calm, easy going cowgirl gets pushed aside.   The beast wakes up.  Everything makes me tired.  Everything irritates me.  Everything makes me want to run for the airport. 

I know this about myself.  I've tried waiting over a year for a vacation twice before in my adult life.  Each time, I said, "Never again."

Why do I think I get this way?  Well, no matter what job I've had in my adult life, I push myself really hard.  I've never worked a standard 40 hour week.

Even when I worked part-time for Elaine in college, it wasn't the 10 or 12 hours a week my student employees want.  The least hours I ever worked was 15 hours a week. It was usually more like 20, plus 18-21 class hours. 

I push myself to the max.  I always have.  I try to do it differently, but I can't.  So, after a year of this, my body just calls it quits.  If I keep going, well, there's going to be hell to pay for me and everyone around me.  You see why they are starting to worry?  My herd of little Christians is probably praying overtime for me.

I'm not going to get a week off until September.  My body really likes two weeks off.  We'll see if I can appease it with some long weekends that add up to an additional week until September.  This is where Harry's beach house came on the scene.  Last weekend, I was in serious need of some time away.

Saturday morning, I started packing up the car.  I still had lessons, but Cowgirl Pinkie's mom canceled her double lesson at the last minute because she was sick.  That gave me time to start loading the car with the stuff I'd stayed up til 3:00 a.m. packing. 

Imagine a disgruntled Big Foot monster, growling and packing a car.  This is how I felt--tired, lumbering, ugly, generally pissed off.   I wonder if this is how I looked to the staff?  Probably.

No, I didn't have PMS.  PMS goes away in a few days.  The disgruntled Big Foot monster goes on and on until I get a vacation.  PMS would be preferable, believe me.

Ok, back to looking at this from the staff's point of view.  This is where not knowing the house is in the middle of the action; knowing I needed time away; and seeing what was going in my car should have started to worry them.  But, I think they were too afraid to say anything.  Or, they were glad I may be gone for more than a weekend looking at the odd assortment of stuff going in the trunk.

There was a long garment bag, complete with dress, Ralph Lauren jacket, a really nice blouse and some linen pants--haha--I thought I'd be able to wear those, but that's tomorrow's part of the story.  There was a really nice weekender bag that I bought when I had a real job and a bigger pay check.  It was filled to over flowing. 

There were jeans and sweaters and tee shirts and a windbreaker pop-over.  I packed a pair of muck boots.  A bag full of books and magazines.  A huge traveling CD case with probably 75 CDs.  A wine bag with three bottles of really nice wine and a bottle of Jack Daniels. 

I packed a lot of stuff to only be gone for a weekend. At least, that's what I'd think if I'd have been the one watching this packing.  Or, if I were the staff, I'd have been thankful to God that the beast was going away--maybe for more than a few days.

In truth, I'd looked at the weather.  The weather was going to be wild.  There would be little periods of sun, then rain, then a little colder.  I was packing for the weather, but I doubt the staff realized this.  I'm sure it looked like I'd had enough and was leaving...for good.

I think they were starting to worry.  They should have worried for many reasons.  But, the number one reason should have been, "Who's going to write our pay checks next week?" 

Well, since my staff acts like they don't really need the money I pay them, maybe that wasn't it.  Maybe they were just worried they'd be stuck taking care of my animals forever out of a sense of Christian obligation?  I have no idea.

Tomorrow, I'll tell you about how my plans for a refreshing weekend changed.  It's always something!  Always.

Have a good Monday.  I'm going to try to get some more rest now, before the beast breaks loose and causes actual harm to any one.

Thanks for reading! Tune in tomorrow for Part Two. Bye.