The End of Relaxation

The car was barely edging onto the highway toward my house and already I was getting edgy. The stress was seeping back. What stress? All self-inflicted. It’s not like I have children or a real high-powered job. But in any case, I was only 20 miles away and I was getting anxious.

I’m back from vacation. That beautiful time of the year where anything goes and you’re mandated not to worry about anything. In fact, people yell if you do. I mentioned work once, and my boyfriend gave me a look that would send hundreds fleeing. I didn’t mention it again. In fact, I didn’t think about it. It was glorious.

There was one sour spot, which was my mother. A topic to be discussed another day, and the guilt of not being there to help out my sister, who was also on vacation but had the misfortune of spending it at home and taking day trips, not traveling to New England for a week like myself.

Maine is beautiful if you’re wondering and for those of you who live there, how you survive the winters, I will never know. Great weather in the summer. Much better than the oppressive heat which hit my area during my absence. Overall, it was what I needed. Calming and relaxing. I ate too much. I laid around. It was great.

With three more days between me and work, I should be looking forward to a few more low-key days but there is something about being home, being back in reality that makes me tense.

Why is it so difficult to relax when you’re not in a different zip code? Somehow I need to find a way to stay relaxed and not let the stress bog me down. Weening myself off the nicotine lozenges might help with the angst a bit.

So until I figure it out, I’ll just remember the days of relaxation. Such as…….

The Nissan basking in the rays at Acadia National Park in Maine. (Hey, when you have no children or pets what else are you supposed take photos of?)

I’m Not That Girl

I do not RSVP on time

I do not send out Christmas cards or make thoughtful “just thinking of you” gifts

I cannot cook a large meal without burning part of it or spilling something all over myself

I do not dress impeccably, wear makeup, or curl my hair

I am not neat nor organized

I don’t wear pink, glitter, or belly shirts

If you’re discussing some big star or hit new show, chances are I will not what you are talking about

I don’t paint my nails or smell of flowers

I don’t come prepared

I do not care about baskets, handbags, teddy bears, crafts or scrapbooks

I never say the right thing

I never look together

But

I am kind

I am polite

I have good manners

You can count on me

I am clumsy and messy

I talk to fast and pop my gum

I show up 5 minutes late and whirl in like a hurricane

I procrastinate

I watch Mystery on PBS and like to read

I adore libraries and get excited when I see an ice cream truck

My hair is always tangled and my bra strap is always showing

I am scatterbrained, spacy, and gullible

I am an instigator and a fool

I will do anything for a laugh

I do not pay attention and I always stick my foot in my mouth

I am afraid of the dark and I freeze up in public

…and I have been trying so hard lately to not be all of those things, that I have forgotten that’s it’s OK with me that I am.