Part of the beginning of spring marks the “break”. The week free of alarm clocks, deadlines for homework, and the insidious schedule of the boy’s afternoon “engagements”. With that comes the gathering of clothes and items needed for a much needed break. Did I say break? Oh, well, what I meant was a geographical cure where I am basically doing the same thing only in a rental house that is closer to the beach.
Actually, while it is a vacation, I have always taken it upon myself to make lists, pack, do laundry, load up the car, go over my lists again, unpack, repack, and then throw away my lists because they are making me crazy. I am not the easiest person to travel with, just ask my family. I get a little uptight and I tend to only relax once I am soaking up the tropical sun with an adult beverage in hand. With that being said, I do take time to rejuvenate my spirit, work on resting more, and not adhering to any sort of schedule….that is until it is time to pack. It is my cycle, my pattern, and my way of doing things which I own with great pride. It makes me a little quirky, but it also makes me feel more comfortable. Some may label it as control, I like to refer to it as structured organization.
Nobody seems to complain when everything needed or mostly everything is packed and ready to go. I would welcome someone to step up to the plate and organize our trips. Let’s be honest, the first person to screw it up would never life it down, so why chance it? I screw it up enough for all of us. It has become amusing watching my antics. I almost ALWAYS forget something even with the lists. So, while I continue the packing process and crossing things off of my lists, I will remember to allow room for laughter. After all, what is a vacation without a whimsical story to tell even if it is about me.
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