Workaholism

You probably know many people who boast about how much vacation they've accumulated over their years of work, and how little of it they ever take. I'm on vacation this week, and while I'm not sure how much time I have accrued, I know that I don't come near using it in a calendar year.

Maybe that's because I'm not sure what I'd do with it. This morning I actually went to Starbucks so I could get a couple of pieces written on deadline while Noel watched the kids. It was like being at work, except I couldn't go to my office because ... I'm on vacation.

We are taking a short two-day trip with the kids mid-week. Given a choice between days where thunderstorms threatened and sunny days, we chose what promises to be the hottest days of the year so far. I plan to spend all moments out-of-doors dunked up to my neck in chlorinated water.

My parents took us on meandering trips through historic regions every summer. I treasure those memories, and the time is fast approaching when we need to start making some of them for our kids. The thought of spending weeks of vacation time actually traveling, though, is quite daunting at this stage in their lives. There's also the matter of through-the-woods-to-grandmother's-house -- unlike my upbringing with two sets just across town, visiting grandma and grandpa is an expensive and time-consuming proposition for our family. If you're going to muster the funds and energy to go anywhere, it's kind of difficult to justify a destination without relatives.

Maybe next summer we'll plan a major excursion. This year I'm just as happy to be vacationing near home, and only for a few days. Now if I could only figure out how to stop working while I'm on vacation, I'll really have this whole thing licked.