I knew this would happen.
I brought it on myself, I have no one but stupid me to blame.
I'm getting sick. I can feel it getting worse by the minute. Ick, dammit, ick.
I kept bragging how I had gone all winter with out so much as a drippy nose or scratchy throat, and now I'm being punished by the god of vacations.
Now, I am feeling sorry for myself. Indeed, I am thoroughly immersed in wallowing at the moment.
Let it be known that I have not had a vacation like this EVER. I am a proud & confirmed workaholic, and the longest vacation I've taken in the last 8 years (where I've flown somewhere & stayed at a hotel, not on someone's spare futon) has been 5 days. Actually, more like 4-1/2. I am not a spoiled vacation whore, nor have I ever been. I let my passport lapse years ago because I realized that there was no chance of me going anywhere besides St. Paul or Duluth (or maybe...Wisconsin!), possibly ever.
So now, I am taking the big step, taking a full week, got a new passport, I'm flying, renting a nice hotel and basking in the beauty of it- and I feel like shit.
I was already down dispite the impending sicky-ness. My job is eating my soul a little, I'm bored with the everyday pieces of just...being, and I can't seem to find anything real to be excited about, vacation not included.
I keep waiting for something exceptional to happen.
I know, I'm supposed to MAKE it happen, blah, blah, blah.
I just have to think that isn't entirely how it works. I shouldn't have to constantly MAKE things happen. Can't they just...happen? Just once in a while?
Tonight I'll put a magic bean under my pillow, and tomorrow will be the day I've been waiting for- the day it begins.
Now, I know I put that bean here somewhere- maybe it's at the bottom of my purse with my keys and rolaids.