Vacation is hard work

Let me start by saying that getting out of bed this morning was more difficult than watching george bush say nuclear. This is due in part to the 11 glorious days of vacation I just experienced, in part to the late hour at which Bryan and I finally fell asleep after waking up yesterday at an hour that couldn't be called "morning", and in part (or mostly) to the annual "throwing-out" of my lower back. It all started when...

Mid-December: I realized that I have a lot of vacation time left and too few days to use it. Undaunted by the fact that I will have to take off more days than I will work for the rest of the year, I put in my time-off request and "work" until noonish on Thursday, the 22nd. The rest of this day is taken up by speed Scrabble with co-workers and the end-of-the-year wine and cheese celebration (I have to mention here that my Primary Source Jeopardy game was a smash hit). I then began my longest stretch of vacation since becoming gainfully employed.

Christmas: The O’Connors arrive, the tree is artfully decorated and the three-day extravaganza begins. More board games are played than JD has Salinger, more wine is drunk than Brookline has Chinese food restaurants, and more presents were opened than, well, not. I won’t actually rank my gifts, but a list of top ten moments of 2005 from my sweetie, two Brian Andreas prints, and a digital camera were among the highlights. Nieces and nephew abounded, joyfully tearing wrapping paper, and all was right in Santaland.

The post Christmas haze didn’t dissipate at all as we continued the fun with a trip to the Museum of Science, a long and fruitful trip to Home Depot, where I actually felt comfortable for the first time ever (thanks to Bryan’s dad and brother-in-law), some tasty Mexican lasagna (and more board games) (and more wine), and a jaunt to Connecticut for some amazing QT with the “girls.” By the time New Year’s Eve rolled around, I wouldn’t have believed my vacation could get any better.

NYC: Bryan and I headed south to the Big Apple to enjoy what we hoped would be a lively and dancerific New Year’s Eve. And, boy, we weren’t disappointed. We found a parking spot in front of the twins’ apartment building, ate more tasty Mexican food (and got some free drinks from the owner who loved that Rob and Pat were identical twins), drank our body weight in any and all kinds of liquor and beer, danced, danced some more, and crashed hard on an Aerobed where we woke up to eggs with ham!

2006: A most welcome year; the year of our nuptials (finally), and of the potential for changes in surroundings. It feels like a year fraught with possibility and adventure. I can honestly say that I have never felt happier and more stable in my entire life. I’m employed in a job I like, and within an industry that I love; I’m marrying someone I adore and respect, who can kick my ass at Scrabble but take a lickin’ in Boggle; I live in a home that I’ve been able to fix up and learn from (okay, this is a euphemism for things don’t work and I have to figure it out or risk losing my ceiling, but it’s fun in a Bob-Villa-what-doesn’t-kill-you-makes-you-stronger kind of way), and I have a great (albeit a tiny bit insane) family. So, hello 2006 – glad to know ya.

The aftermath: And that brings me to yesterday. A day of rest and recuperation. A day to undecorated the tree, clean up the pine needles, take stock for the upcoming year, and mentally prepare to face the morning commute again. It was during the cleaning up of the pine needles that life’s sick sense of humor give me a not-so-gentle-kick-in-the-ass reminder that time is moving forward and that I’d better be able to afford a housecleaning service soon ‘cause this body was not meant to bend over at the waist for prolonged periods of time.