I am a writer. Most days, I am at home, sitting in front of my computer trying to create something both entertaining and commercially viable. This occurs with varying amounts of success. My friends and family do not see my activities in quite the same light that I do.
According to them, I am unemployed and don’t do anything all day long. My existence is just one long vacation with no responsibilities or concerns. Usually, I just smile and laugh off their comments. I can see why they would think that. My car never leaves the driveway and the only time my skin sees sunlight is when I stagger out into the open air long enough to grab the mail. However, these comments can get a little frustrating when I actually do want to take a vacation.
The stares I get when I bring up the topic are confused at best and threatening at their worst.
“What do you need a vacation for? You never leave the house.” This is the typical response I receive.
And that is exactly why I need the vacation. When most people have a day off, they are excited they don’t have to go to their place of work. They get to stay home. When I take a day off, I’m still right where I always am. Same four walls. Same view. Same everything.
When I take a day off, I want to go somewhere.
Here is where it gets a bit sticky. I am married to a workaholic. Even when I am ready to leave the house for a couple days, I have to convince my wife to go with me. Well, I don’t have to. I suppose I could go without her, but that would create a whole different set of problems that I really don’t want to deal with.
My wife is an elementary school principal, and she absolutely hates taking time off.
She works late most nights, and when she gets home, she is still checking emails and making phone calls right up until she goes to bed. On weekends, she is frequently fielding questions from parents and teachers at her school, so the time we spend together is usually me on the couch looking at a paused television screen while listening to my wife explain to a hostile parent why little Johnny is failing arts and crafts despite his surprising facility at eating paste.
If I can’t get her to pay attention to me for five minutes on a weekend, you can imagine the lack of success I have getting my wife to leave town with me for a few days.
Our last camping trip together is a perfect example.
We had a reservation at a camp site from Thursday through Monday. I asked my wife if she could take a couple days off. I told her I wanted to leave Thursday so we could have three full days at the campgrounds.
She took Friday off, but decided she still wanted to work on Thursday. She suggested I go to the campgrounds, set up our camp, then drive back into town on Friday to pick her up.
I took a hard pass on that suggestion.
She next suggested she could work a half day on Thursday, then we could leave town in the afternoon. I agreed to that one, albeit reluctantly.
Thursday arrived, and apparently there was “an incident” at school that day. While she did come home in the afternoon, my wife was writing emails and talking on the phone the entire time I was packing the truck and hooking up the trailer.
And during the hour and a half drive to the campgrounds.
And while I set up camp.
And while we ate dinner.
And … well, I’m sure you get the picture.
Friday was not much better. I sat in a folding chair in front of a campfire the following morning, while my wife wandered through the trees looking for better cell reception.
The weekend did improve slightly. I believe we had a couple five-minute conversations between emails. I finally got her settled in and got her to turn off her electronic devices about halfway through Monday morning. Of course, that was also the day we had to come home.
During the drive home, I could see her brain start to heat up again as she thought about going back to work the next day. Her eyes rolled up into her head and she started having imaginary conversations with parents and students. She could have passed for a Baptist minister at a tent revival meeting.
That was our last vacation. I did get away from the house, I suppose. But it would have been nice if there was someone to talk to while we there. Someone besides the kids, I mean. I talk to them enough already, and most of those conversations start with one of them asking for money.
The next trip we have planned isn’t until next summer. That’s about ten months away. My wife will have to miss a couple days of Summer School for us to go.
I should probably start easing her into the idea of it now. I hope there’s enough time.
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