VACATIONS

Once upon a time when I worked for a living, and was part of the great mix, I would plan my vacation and then look forward to it. On the Friday before I left, I would treat myself to a nice lunch, go back to the office and leave some instructions and go home early. Life was good, I would think: I have a whole ___________________, to relax and do what I want!

The next moment I was asking: Where the hell did the time go? I would trudge back to the office, open the door and look at all the stuff people piled on my desk, opened my emails to a long list of dates and changes and requests and what have you. Secretaries were of no help and neither were assistants, who all wanted to wait for me to come back. There might be a thing that should have been done and wasn’t, (made me mad) an event that was post phoned until I got back (made me mad) or something that I worked hard on that was canceled for some reason. (made me mad)

I would sit in my chair and a long line of people would drop in to ask the question: “How was your vacation?” I’d start out with a full report and as the day wore on, abbreviated it until I got to the one word answer: “Good!”

I would look at my calendar, see what my schedule was for the coming week and sigh, and think about how many days until the weekend. As I worked I would have flashbacks to the vacation, feeling like I was still on a trip somewhere, be it Italy or Florida or even New Jersey or Connecticut, I was lost and absorbed in the good times. This feeling lasted a few days, until I really got into the swing.

The evening of the first day back, I would get home utterly exhausted, wiped out and wishing I were retired. But nothing compared to the feeling of the usual Sunday night before returning to work from vacation, the dread, the anticipation, the want to extend the vacation to the last drop and screaming in my mind all the way to bed that night.

Then, then there was the morning. The spot I was in was so comfortable I didn’t want to move, I didn’t care anymore, I wanted to cry. No, cry is not the word, SOB, because if could sob and say: “Son of a bitch” S.O.B.

So when you go off to vacation this summer, beware of all that and try to come back with a smile on your face, knowing I have one on my face!

Hey, I heard that!