Monday morning I woke up in a funk. And it only got funkier as the day wore on. I could feel Costa Rica wearing off, my tan fading, my sunny disposition turning grey. Vacation ended and life was caning me with the reality rod. I couldn’t shake it.
My husband, frustrated with my dour demeanor, said, “I guess that was a wasted trip.”
“That wasn’t a nice thing to say,” I replied. “What do you mean by that?”
“You’re as grumpy now as you were right before we left. I wanted you to come home refreshed, pura vida and all that. You’re sulking like you haven’t seen the sun in 6 months,” he scolded me.
I had no defense for my attitude. I couldn’t explain it.
But I’ve made it to Friday. And a wave of clarity has come over me. Our vacation let me step up out of my rut in the road and actually walk a different, much more inviting path. I walked slower. I soaked in my surroundings. I breathed deeply. The experience provided me perspective on my existence.
Today, still trying to analyze why a fabulous vacation in a tropical paradise, with my soul mate, would leave me feeling so knotted up inside, it hit me like a wall of water – my life is out of balance. As long as I plod through my week, attacking each priority as I get to it, then moving on to the next task, never looking up, never stopping, I’m fine. Fine, I suppose, in the sense that my obligations are taken care of. I get in the groove and keep pushing forward, day after day after day, and I’m satisfied.
But I didn’t feel so fine once I saw the other side.
I’d like my husband to know it wasn’t a wasted trip. I learned something very important about myself – I shouldn’t have so much fun when I go on vacation.
Oh, yeah, and the whole balanced life item, that will have to wait. I’ve got a few things to get done before that moves to the top of the list.
(Join Lucy on Saturday, February 22, 2pm, at Barnes & Noble on Augusta West Parkway, where she will sign copies of her book, If Mama Don't Laugh, It Ain't Funny.)