I was mulling the other day on my break over deep things...such as "What I'm going to type here for my January resolutions" when I had an Epi-Fanny. (Anyone else pronounce epiphany that way? It's fun!)
I have not had a proper vacation...like, get on a plane and go somewhere proper, in a long time. Since early 2008 by my reckoning. I mean, I've gone camping up North. I was sent to Vegas for work when I first started here. And hell, my best friend invited me to visit San Jose Del Cabo last Spring for the cost of airfare with a place to stay on the beach and everything. (Until I did my taxes. And Mr. Tax Man was all like "Give me yo' money!" and I was all like "Ha ha, Mr. Tax Man. That's very fun--LOOK! A TIE FIGHTER!!!" and ran away. Crying into my life.)
And yeah, it's been a tight few years if I hadn't mentioned that ad nauseum. Job loss which meant temp jobs and income were never steady. Dad loss which meant being depressed and self-anesthest---self-medi--- day-drinking when there was no work which in turn meant I didn't really want to go anywhere. And then debt that was tickling my scrotum with no hope of diminishing. And it sucked. It was like an ongoing break-up that your partner instigated and you didn't see coming. Except substitute "(your partner's name)" with "Travel". "Don't go, Travel! DON'T YOU KNOW I LOVE YOU SO MUCH. IF I GET PREGNANT WILL YOU STAY WITH ME AND GET MARRIED WHEN WE'RE 20!?!?!"
Seriously. I love the shit out of travelling. And I don't even think I've escaped the state of Minny for leisure in over 4 years? That...that feels almost criminal. I mean, if I love it so much why in the name of delicious tacos am I not doing it?
And so...I plan...to get the frack out of town in 2013. Even if it's to Wisconsin. Wisconsin, people. That should give you every indication as to how Mother Hubbardly serious I am.
No comments:
Post a Comment