Girthful Girl

Bigger than a bread box. Happy as a clam.

Notes &

I’m doing something I’ve never done before—I’m taking myself on vacation. I’m excited and nervous and a little amazed that I’m going through with it. I’ve always dreamed of going away for a few days to a sunny place. No computer. No worries. Just me, books, sand and slushy drinks.  I tend not to have the money for that sort of thing. I’m in the middle of a hardcore debt pay down and I don’t have a lot of wiggle room in the ol’ budget because of it. One of my goals, after I get myself out of the hole, has always been to go away to some place beautiful and hot and sandy. Like the Bahamas.  And then something lovely happened. I received an unexpected royalty check for the book I co-wrote. And a few days later I got an email from JetBlue telling me I had a free round-trip ticket that was set to expire. And that reminded me that I had some hotel points on Starwood that I could use for a reduced rate on a hotel room… and then, BOOM. I didn’t have to wait for no debt to make this happen. It just happened.  And I’m going on this trip. Alone and fat and single and still in debt. I’m not waiting to do good things until the conditions are (impossibly) perfect. I’m no longer playing the “I’ll-do-this-when-I-lose-50-pounds” game. Bad game, bad game! And I’m not going to have a pity party for myself because I’m single. NO WAY. And I’m still in debt. So what. The stars aligned and here I am headed to do something a little bit scary and (I hope) a whole lot fun. My bag is 60% books, 20% dresses and 20% bathing suits. I have a bath fizz the size of my head packed in my toiletry bag. Both laptops, even the precious wee travel laptop, are staying home. I’ve give the cats 3 uninterrupted days of special me time so they won’t be mad that I’ve left (and, of course, my indispensable cat sitter is coming to tend to their cat-needs).  It’s happening. And I have cute dresses to wear. A floppy straw hat. Heart-shaped sunglasses. Oodles of sunblock. And a strong desire to just stop and breathe and calm the hell down and remember what’s it’s like just to be me, Rachel, for a few blissful days. 

I’m doing something I’ve never done before—I’m taking myself on vacation. I’m excited and nervous and a little amazed that I’m going through with it. I’ve always dreamed of going away for a few days to a sunny place. No computer. No worries. Just me, books, sand and slushy drinks. 

I tend not to have the money for that sort of thing. I’m in the middle of a hardcore debt pay down and I don’t have a lot of wiggle room in the ol’ budget because of it. One of my goals, after I get myself out of the hole, has always been to go away to some place beautiful and hot and sandy. Like the Bahamas. 

And then something lovely happened. I received an unexpected royalty check for the book I co-wrote. And a few days later I got an email from JetBlue telling me I had a free round-trip ticket that was set to expire. And that reminded me that I had some hotel points on Starwood that I could use for a reduced rate on a hotel room… and then, BOOM. I didn’t have to wait for no debt to make this happen. It just happened. 

And I’m going on this trip. Alone and fat and single and still in debt. I’m not waiting to do good things until the conditions are (impossibly) perfect. I’m no longer playing the “I’ll-do-this-when-I-lose-50-pounds” game. Bad game, bad game! And I’m not going to have a pity party for myself because I’m single. NO WAY. And I’m still in debt. So what. The stars aligned and here I am headed to do something a little bit scary and (I hope) a whole lot fun. My bag is 60% books, 20% dresses and 20% bathing suits. I have a bath fizz the size of my head packed in my toiletry bag. Both laptops, even the precious wee travel laptop, are staying home. I’ve give the cats 3 uninterrupted days of special me time so they won’t be mad that I’ve left (and, of course, my indispensable cat sitter is coming to tend to their cat-needs). 

It’s happening. And I have cute dresses to wear. A floppy straw hat. Heart-shaped sunglasses. Oodles of sunblock. And a strong desire to just stop and breathe and calm the hell down and remember what’s it’s like just to be me, Rachel, for a few blissful days.