Zen as hell right now. My kid could bring me a beehive and scotch tape it to my upper lip and I wouldn’t give a fart. Spending a weekend alone with Sophia, Dorothy, Blanche and Rose was exactly what I needed. Also, finding out that on any given moment, at least four episodes of Golden Girls is on the air, makes me want to get cable again.
On Friday night, I rolled up to my hotel to check in. The guy at the counter asked what brought me into town and I started ADDsplaining in the most manic way possible that I had a baby and also a little boy and I’m really tired and my husband was gone for a while and then he came back and I was so tired that I ran away is there a bathtub in my room because I would really love a bathtub if at all possible. I think his nose was bleeding a little by the time I was done.
Dropped my bag in my room, then I hightailed it to the grocery store to play Look How Far My Money Goes When I Don’t Shop the Perimeter. Stocked up on supplies. I’m not gonna tell you what I got because I don’t need that kind of judgement in my life; I’m zen as hell. Then I ordered delivery before I made my way back so I could spend the wait time driving instead of running back and forth across my room to check the window and then the peephole and then the window and then the peephole. I got a call in the elevator and answered as the doors opened on my floor and OH LOOK it was the delivery guy calling me! Why wasn’t I answering when you knocked on the door? Because I have near-perfect timing, that’s why.
Then I ate a cheesesteak in my bathtub and watched Scandal and did two face masks. I went to bed full and relaxed and with glowing skin. I woke up too early because I couldn’t figure out how to work the curtains the night before and I was too proud to ask for help. But don’t worry! I figured it out in the daylight.
On my full day alone and in a strange land (35 minutes from my house,) I got a pedicure, took a nap, learned about life as Women of a Certain Age in President Papa Bush-era Miami, did some embroidery because why the hell not, and ate enough of my rations to make me want spinach. That night, I met up with my sister for dinner and a movie. I worked through the DANGER!DANGER! signals my body was sending me and indulged in popcorn and butt-m&ms*. I only mention this because I am really passionate about butt-m&ms and try to spread the glory of their name.
The remainder of the evening was spent watching makeup videos on YouTube in the bathtub and doing my nails. This morning, I woke up at a reasonable hour because I found out how curtains work. I skipped free breakfast because my body was talking about me on Post Secret. So I used my last hours of vacation to work on some embroidery I’ve been trying to finish for months, and watched more Golden Girls.
There are no words for how recharged and calm I felt. And I missed my babies! And my husband. Don’t want to leave him out. But getting home and giving my kids a big hug and finding my house intact and feeling ready to attack my day to day with a renewed dedication? That’s a high I was able to ride for eight gloriously ignorant minutes, until August started asking “why” in an endless loop and Halligan decided to find out how cats taste. But eight minutes without my head spinning and hearing commands from Lucifer is pretty damn good, so I’d say the vacation worked.
*For those of you who haven’t had your lives changed yet, butt-m&ms are when you sit on a bag of m&ms while you eat your popcorn during a movie. By the time you’re over the popcorn and ready for candy, the m&ms will be ready. The chocolate will be melted, but the candy shell will still be hard and intact. I go to the movies almost entirely for butt-m&ms. If you’re wondering out loud why I don’t just eat them at home, I will tell you why. Shut the shit up, AssFace. That’s why.