…I Don’t Need Anything Else, Except This Lamp…

Vacation.


That word, in and of itself, is enough to send me into the happy dance.


Just say it with me, readers. Enunciate. Feel the syllables roll around on you tongue.


“Vaaaaa-caaaaa-tioooooon.”


Isn’t it titillating??


For the first time in 3 years, Brian and I are actually packing up, hitting the road, and going somewhere (that is not here) for an extended period of time. The key part of that sentence is that we’re going somewhere (THAT IS NOT HERE.) As in, we’re leaving home. As in, we’re going away


The last time we were away from home for any stretch of time was when Brian was in the hospital. It’s true that neither of us had to work during that long, emotional week. But sleeping on a fold-out chair is far from a vacation. In fact, the last REAL vacation we took was February of 2010. So, I’m a little rusty when it comes to the planning, and the preparing, and the packing.


Let me just put it out there, friends. My OCD is in overdrive right now. My house is COVERED in lists. From my desk…

To my office.



The dry-erase board in the kitchen that is usually reserved for my weekly meal plan has been taken over by the sudden need to jot down a list of supplies we need to pack, since Dizzy (our diabetic kitty) is making the trip with us.

And not even the bathroom mirror is immune. (Anyone recognize the shower curtain from “This Morning, I Became An Assassin“?)


All the post-it notes you see above, and they don’t even begin to cover all the lists I’ve got rolling around in my head right now. (I may or may not already be planning my wardrobe for the week in question. Maybe. I wouldn’t admit to it if I was…)



The funny thing is that we don’t leave until Tuesday. I have a WHOLE WEEK to figure out what suitcase to use, which socks to pack, and whether or not to take my bathing suit. (We’re staying with family. They don’t have a pool. But you never know when a pool might present itself, am I right?)


And if I pack a bathing suit, I have to pack a cover-up, beach towels, sunscreen, and my floppy hat. 


OMG…where IS my floppy hat??


Ooh, that reminds me, I need to make sure I find Brian’s water shoes. I’ll bet my hat is near them, buried in the depths of my closet. That makes sense…they’re both aquatic necessities. 


I should probably pack my giant water bottle, too.


Ok, maybe I don’t need to take the floppy hat. I mean, it’s a little old fashioned. And I only wear it at the beach to keep the sun off my face. I don’t need the hat. Or the water shoes. But I definitely need the bathing suit. 


And the sunscreen. 


And the beach towels.


Sigh. Even my blog isn’t immune from my list-making. So I’m going to succumb to the need, drink another cup of coffee in my awesome unicorn mug, and continue making lists until the sun goes down.

Yeah. That’s the coolest coffee mug, EVER.


PS: For those who didn’t get it, the title of this post comes from my favorite scene in the movie “The Jerk,” starring Steve Martin. For the curious, click here.

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