I took last week off work. It was my week to recharge and relax. My plan was to meet friends for lunch on Monday (which I did — yay!), get a mani/pedi (which I did), get massages, read books, relax, get caught up on cleaning out things we no longer use, spend time weeding and prepping the garden, all those things that I don’t have time to do on a regular basis.
Except for Monday, I spent essentially all my time either at the wee ones’ preschool getting ready for our Cinco de Mayo fundraiser or at the local elementary school prepping for and working their rummage sale. While I did read the Twilight books, that was late late at night.
My week off? A major FAIL. And yes, I know it’s my fault.
My new theory? I need to go away for a vacation. And I think I need to do it by myself, maybe with a few friends. For five days or so. I wouldn’t want to be away from the wee ones for longer than that.
Unfortunately, that’s so not happening for a variety of reasons, not the least of which is that a guy who works for me is traveling the first week of June and then July 6 to August 3, which pretty much kills the entire summer.
But I can dream, right?
In my dreams, I’m headed to Mexico. I figure it has to be cheap at this point, right? And it’s warm. And friendly. The plane trip isn’t too long. The food is great, as are the drinks.
I think I’m at an all inclusive resort, and the best part is that the food has no calories, nor do the drinks. And the all inclusive includes all the fun things like SCUBA that I haven’t done since before Mister Man was born and the trapeze school that I would so love to do. They even have horseback riding on the beach.
It doesn’t rain there, which is nice, and I’m at one of the places where the vendors aren’t allowed to congregate on the beaches and drive you nuts. I’m usually pretty good about keeping them away from me (there’s something about living IN Chicago that tends to give people the vibe not to bother you), but it’s nice to not have to worry about it.
Oh, I’m so ready to go. What else am I missing?
Do you think the chaise lounge on the deck with my toes in the wee ones’ sandbox with a margarita will cut it? Maybe if I add some homemade guac and chips.