Preparing for Vacation

 It was typical prior to my husband taking a vacation to work late in the days preceding his days off. He needed to get things in order—delegate to his staff what work expectations he had, give notice to his clients of his absence, and clean up any lingering items such that when he returned he could ease himself back comfortably.  This was in addition to his day-to-day duties. He needed to prepare for vacation. Getting ready for a respite required work—lots of forethought.

Which is why I find it so irritating that he and the entire rest of my family do not seem to notice that in order for me to go away for a few days I must also work overtime. And stuffing clothing into a bag is the least of it. I do not have a magic wand that I can wave to get all the little travel size toiletries purchased or the instructions typed up for the care of the dog, or the food shopping done for Blanca when she house sits, or preparing the drycleaning so the clothes are ready for pick-up and delivery, or getting the laundry up to date. I must remember to bring any drug anyone might need—including Advil, allergy pills, eye drops and stomach meds. And part of my duties is to bring the suitcases down from the attic and organize the confirmations, go to the bank and get small bills for tipping and give out all the important phone numbers for all that need them. By the time I get everything ready for vacation I almost always do not even want to go anymore. I am too exhausted and too annoyed with the entire process.

For my next vacation I want to hire—me. I want a body double or a clone to do all that I do so that I may actually relax and look forward to some time off. I want to hire someone to do all the crap that I do. Because I genuinely think that there is a market for this service and that women would pay big bucks for it. The problem is—no one would do it—not even a slum dog from Sri Lanka.

So. As I get ready to visit Kara in Atlanta I will drink several cups of coffee, stick a Therapad on my back and pop 3 Advil at a clip. And I will not snap when someone from my family comments I don’t understand what you have to do-- I don’t understand why you are so tired—you are only going away for a few days. Why are you so busy?

I will remain silent and I will wish for some staff—just like my husband has.