Vacation. All I Ever Wanted.

This is Day 6 of my sixteen day summer vacation. The same two weeks in July I take every year, nestled safely between Bear Week and Family Week, when the town is not over-run by any particular group. Yet this year’s vacation is different than the others I’ve had in the past decade. I stepped off the boat last Saturday feeling pretty good. I wasn’t totally and completely gutted, exhausted, spent, fried, and/or broken from the previous 50 weeks of the year. So many life-preserving changes this past year, including a big one I’ve been holding back for four months (NO! It does not involve babies.) Although I can’t share it yet, I will as soon as I am able.

But here is the totally unexpected part about feeling pretty good before going on vacation: I’ve been content to do nothing. Nothing. Just sleeping. Eating. Napping. Swimming. Floating. Giving dirty looks to the people who splash me. (WHY do they have to splash?) Staring at the clouds. Staring at the sea. Staring at the sand. Taking photos. Thinking. Lots of thinking. Reading. Being bored. Yes, bored. I can’t remember the last time I allowed myself to be bored. Try it. It’s pretty great! Yesterday’s big activity — besides putting up my pool umbrella — was riding along with my mom to the post office so I could see if the juice bar across the street had watermelon juice yet. And it did! Love summer.

Tomorrow, my nothing becomes something. The Mr. arrives on Friday night. And he’s an extrovert. Which means he’s ready to socialize and do things. He’s a live one, that Mr., and we have lots of things planned. Good thing I rested up. (I am very excited to see him! Although I will miss sleeping spread eagle in the middle of the bed. I wonder if I can convince him to sleep on the floor. Now, that would be something.)