Fa la la la la, la la di da

There are few scenarios more benignly excruciating than clockwatching the day you leave for a much-needed (and lengthy) holiday break. Maybe it was the anticipation and crazy head-spinning energy that accompanied my early morning uprising out of bed; maybe it was the fact that the local news “weather team” has a habit of inconsistently predicting snowfall inches and they don’t seem to plow the side streets where I reside (ever, really – I remember them using a plow in the alleyway behind my garage once since I’ve lived there) so I wasn’t sure what to expect on the way in to work this morning. I arrived very early, to the confusion of my department supervisor and have seemingly been on a coffee-induced high ever since.

It’s not that I’m particularly excited about driving through ice pellets and rain on the way out of town this evening, but I have this vision in my mind of arriving at my brother’s house. Two feelings push past the others: exhaustion and relief. Relief because I bear no responsibilities for the week other than wrapping Christmas gifts and getting up out of the bed every morning. Knowing that I’ll be able to breathe in the salt-infused air and find a few quiet moments to myself to just sink into a lazy vacation rhythm is so very comforting. Having an opportunity to slough off my snow-covered shoes and trade them in for sand and surf is simply a delight. There’s plenty of winter ahead of me. For now, I dream of a southern, slow-paced Christmas free of stress, slush and situations I cannot change.

Happy Holidays, everyone!