As I've written before, I used to travel a lot, in the Before Times. Every two months or so, I'd jet off somewhere awesome, for meetings or conferences or just vacation. I loved traveling, because I loved getting out of my own space and into someplace different. I also hate sitting still, so traveling scratched that itch for me—I got to move without actually moving, if you know what I mean.
The past eight months have been tough in that regard. Yes, I've saved a ton of money, and yes, this is a total uptown problem to have, but it was still tough to see five or six trips that I'd been looking forward to, and one total bucket-list honeymoon trip, get cancelled with no idea of when I'll be able to re-book. The months have rolled by, one the same as the next, with no adventures to look forward to. Vacations were also the time when I felt justified in unplugging from work, because I feel that if I'm home, I might as well log on and get something done.
And now other people are traveling, but I don't really feel safe doing that, and my daughter's school has been adamant that we not travel outside our state because they are desperately trying to protect the kids and teachers while doing in-school instruction. Which I appreciate and will follow as long as they want me to—my daughter is thriving and they haven't had any cases in her school. So we stay home.
But the past few weeks, I've started feeling a little frayed. My normal cheerful determination and pleasant good nature (Brian is laughing his ass off right now) have been dampened. My enthusiasm about leaping out of bed at 5:30 every morning is waning. I'm tired. My body is tired, my brain is tired, and frankly, I'm tired of working seven days a week because, well, the computer is right here and I might as well. I, like so many people in the world right now, need a break.
We can't jump on a plane to fix this. We can't jet off to a beach somewhere and have someone serve us frosty beverages by a pool. We can't see someplace mysterious and wonderful. But we can rent a cabin in the hills and go unplug for a week. (The benefits of living in Kentucky, right?) We can still be isolated and not expose ourselves to germs, but we won't be doing it in the same five rooms we've been in for a year.
So that's where I'll be. Starting today, I'm in the hills of Kentucky, chilling out, writing, hiking, soaking in a hot tub, and drinking beverages that are neither frosty nor brought to me by a waiter, but at least aren't in the same glasses I drink from every day. See you in a week.