Maybe this goes with the post from yesterday but I have been craving a vacation. I have not been craving adventure (as is the usual thing I crave… Adventure!), I have not been craving experiencing something new or taking on a challenge. No. I have been craving the kind of lazy that Liz wrote about recently. The kind of lazy that we, as well, had on our honeymoon.
I have never been able to relax like we did on our honeymoon. Every trip I took as an adult was always rushed and full of activities, seeing people, running through airports (sometimes, more than twice, in barefeet), catching trains, sleeping on couches. I never even considered spending more than a long weekend anywhere, and even if I was hanging with my parents in Palm Springs while they golfed and I sat by the pool, it was never enough time to shake the rush of normal life off my clothes.
I think I shared 2 stories from our honeymoon because there wasn’t much to tell. We sat on the beach under a thatched cabana, I read 3 books in 7 days, we drank beer, we listened to the music pumping from the pool and napped in the middle of the day for no reason at all while listening to the ocean, we sat on our balcony and ate chips and salsa, and sprawled on the bed watching Nat Geo in spanish while Kamel translated. We laughed at the really burned people we imagined came from the middle of the US, we eavesdropped on stranger’s conversations at the bar, we judged stranger’s in their bathing suits as they walked by – playing hot or not in real life, scoping out bad and amazing bathing suits, and being 100% superficial.
And I guess the reason this all was so easy to gobble up – as opposed to any other time (including now) – was because we had really, really earned it. We had busted our asses for that wedding, used up all of our spare mental energy, saved and scrimped, and stayed up too late doing projects that seemed as though they would never ever end. We had shut our trap when people were frustrating or disappointing, raged into a pillow instead (me), brooded silently (Kamel), or sometimes we didn’t close our mouths and had it out in real life. It was all a lot, a lot of stuff. And most of you all know this, you know how drained it all can leave you (which is why a lot of people come back from weddings and honeymoons sick… me included).
But I want it again. I want to have permission to lay around and read books, to play in the ocean, and unplug for a week – and I totally haven’t earned it. All I’ve done is normal life. Sometimes it’s overwhelming and exhausting and stressful, but other times I sit on my ass with a glass of wine and watch Prime Suspect for 2 hours. Life is life. I just want the part where I lay around in tropical paradise for a week to be part of it.