Tuesday, August 28, 2012
OCD Vacation Planning for Dummies
The thing about vacations is that we view them as the holy grail of our lives, moments of pure pleasure, our chance at luxurious escape and drive ourselves crazy in the attempt to achieve this nirvana. Or that’s the way it is for me anyway. I dream, I plan, I revise, adjust the calendar, obsessively count and confirm. Every day I tell myself, “Get through today, you’re one day closer!!”. Eventually, though, I hit a wall. I reach a point of saturation so complete, that even one more syllable will make me explode. Usually it happens about a week before the trip, and I get so stressed out that I wonder why I ever thought I liked travel and if I even REALLY want to go. Such is my headspace right now. I have procured the necessary Euros. I have confirmed my reservations with the hotels and the airlines. I have contacted the credit card company and the bank and placed a travel alert on the cards. I’ve found all the necessary cards, passports, and papers. I’ve done two dry runs packing and wheedled down the clothing selection. Tonight, we started looking at the calendar to firm up all the dates. What looked like a long, leisurely trip suddenly isn’t long enough to get it all in!!!! And Dutchboy, he’s the most laid back person I’ve ever met. His travel philosophy is, “Don’t worry!! It works out! It always works out!!” So things I feel should be planned early on, don’t always seem that way to Dutch. And bless his big ol’ heart, he is so bad with dates. He can’t keep them in his head. He tries but then…SQUIRREL!! It’s gone. And I will repeat the dates so he can email friends he should have emailed a month ago to make arrangements, but then …TEA! WE MUST HAVE TEA!!! And he’s off again. Wash. Rinse. Repeat. I know. I know. It’s a luxury problem to have too many friends, too many choices for adventure and not enough days. And I’m lucky to have a man who is patient with my outbursts and suffers me dragging him through hell and half of Georgia. But tonight none of that seems to matter. I’ve officially hit the wall. I’m tired of planning and sorting and thinking about it all. I just want to go and get it over with. Or not. Tomorrow will be better. I’ll be excited and counting down again. I’ll be eager to get going. But tonight, if anyone says “trip” just once more, I’ll go in the house and slam the door.