my staycation

Or, the weekend I didn’t run to the desert.

The other day it got back to me that I am running away when when I head west.

Speculation runs rampant in a community this small.

I don’t think it was meant to sound judgmental, but I took it that way – mostly because it’s not an accurate statement.

Of course there have been plenty of times that I have run away but that’s not what’s going on here – it’s just that I can’t resist the idea of getting sand in my drawers and cactus thorns stuck in my big toe.

But this weekend, I made the choice to stay home. Friday evening, there was an event that I didn’t want to miss, and, I have been blowing off every single responsibility I have in order to spend more time in the dirt and sleep under the stars.

I figured I needed a few days at home to be a grown up and take care of my shit.

So here I am. Friday night was fantastic. I got a huge chunk of work done. I have a lovely Eater potluck this evening. My boys came over for a bit yesterday.

But in-between, I am bored as fuck.

I have plenty to do around here; vacuum, repot plants, scrub the shower, buy toilet paper and lightbulbs. It’s a goddamn thrill a minute.

I don’t go to bars, I have no desire to hit up a mall for a saturday afternoon shopping spree, I don’t watch baseball. And I don’t want to go for a run with 200 mountain bikers spinning past me.

I want to stretch my legs, my brain, my horizons.

I have wanderlust.

I come by it naturally; my mother is a wanderer. I grew up taking road trips all over Europe – cruising through the Italian countryside eating bread and salami, stopping wherever and whenever we had a whim.

I was bitten by the bug at an early age.

I used to tell my children that “I’m bored” was not in our family’s lexicon, and now here I am saying it.

“You could read a book, draw, make something, go for a walk, go for a run, play with the dog.” Those were my suggestions for them when they moaned about having nothing to do.

So applying those same suggestions to my situation…Yes, I could do all of those things, but I’d rather be doing them somewhere out there.

 

 

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s