The Go-Go's, Clark Griswald and Me

There's one of those e-cards floating around the world wide interwebs that says something along the lines of "I want to run away more as an adult than I ever did as a kid." To that I say… Amen. This simple sentiment arises from the simpler fact that we work too much, too hard, and too completely. [Except for a friend of mine who has a gajillion vacation days. Said friend knows who said friend is. And gajillion is a word.]

(No it's not….)

Oh be quiet. You know what I mean. Anyway, we, and I feel comfortable speaking for the majority of you in including you in the "we" to which I refer, have developed an insane inability to relax. Why? I like to relax. Really, I do. I find it most enjoyable. Yet for some reason I seem to generally be incapable of the task. Is it some overbearing sense of obligation? Perhaps. Is it because I don't feel entitled? There's a bit of that, too. Am I a moron for failing to take advantage of the vacation time I have allotted me?

(You said it….)

I know I did. And I reply, emphatically, YES. <----- [Notice the emphatic use of all caps.] I know I'm a moron. I can't help it. Sometimes I feel guilty, not only because of a sense of responsibility, but also because of financial insecurity. Sparing details, let's just say there was a period of my life when I spent way too freely, and paid the consequences for doing so. Now, despite the fact that I have the means to engage in a little frivolity now and then, I still remain reluctant to spend even the littlest amounts on myself. I'm getting better, though. I do have a nice watch collection.

(Watches? Seriously? That’s what you spend your play money on??)

I. Like. Watches. And you know what? It's that kind of attitude that makes me reluctant to spend.

(Um, not to point out the obvious, but I'm a made up, parenthetical heckler. It's really your attitude.)

Again, this I know. I did do one big thing for myself, in the form of my beloved Jeep.

(Oh crap. Here it comes….)

WHICH, incidentally, now bears the designation of "RENEGADE" across the hood in protest of the next Jeep abomination it's offering on the European market. Seriously Fiat, cut the sh*t. Just because you own the Jeep brand doesn't mean you have to keep Euro-trashing it six ways from Sunday. That-which-I-will-not-call-a-Renegade looks just like that thing with the hamsters in the commercial.

(I'm pretty sure they're gerbils.)

WHAT. EVER. In any event, we need to take time for ourselves. Whether it's vacation or a "mental health day," or whether buying something you don't need or eating out every once in a while, you need that time, that luxury, for yourself. If you don't take it, you just might go a bucket full of crazy.

(That explains a lot.)

Dammit! Shut it you.

(Shutting it….)

Perhaps Ferris Bueller said it best: "Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it." Sadly, despite the bajillion times I've seen that movie, I still generally fail to heed that advice.

(Bajillion isn't a word, either.)

*sigh* The point is, I need to stop and look around. I know I've missed some of life. I don't want to miss any more. And thanks to a simple text conversation with a good friend, I won't. Why? Well, are you sitting down?

(Wait… ok.)

I am going to go on vacation.

(Shut the front door!)

Seriously! Like a bona fide, more than a long weekend, put the out-of-office-assistant message on my email, wear sunglasses and drink fruity drinks kind of vacation.

(Are you feeling ok?)

Yes. No. I'm not, hence the need for a vacation. I need it, and dammit I deserve it. So I'm gonna. And yes, before you chime in, I know I'm still not convinced of that and am trying to persuade myself that I really do deserve to take some time off. I'm still going to, don't worry. I booked it and everything, so I can't back out. And I am going to have an awesomesaucy time.

(Awesomesau… good grief.)

You're just jealous. You don't have to be, though. You can do it to. Say it with me: I deserve a vacation! I deserve to do something for me! The new not-a-Cherokee is a still piece of crap and Keanu Reeves still can't act!

(*smacking head*)

Fine. You can skip the last two parts. But do it. Do something for yourself. I am. It hasn't even happened yet and it's already got me smiling. So, I leave with some more immortal movie words that perfectly sum up this post: "Sometimes you just gotta say what the f*ck."

Now, who wants souvenirs?

© J.J. Goodman 2014. All rights reserved.