Counting down...

Waiting for vacations is truly a painful process. Even for me, currently unemployed and loving every minute of it, the prospect of getting away, seeing new things and having adventures is almost too intoxicating to comprehend. A few days ago, my husband asked if I'd mind if we put our vacation off a week to give him more breathing room at work. "No problem," says I in one of my generous moods. And now it feels as if someone has put Christmas back a month. I can't wait. I find myself glancing at the maps lying innocently in a pile on the table and feeling that desperate sense of wanderlust come over me. I find myself doing laundry and thinking yes or no as each item makes the cut in my mental packing list. I'm spreading pre-trip errands out like some sort of shopping Advent calendar: today I get film, tomorrow I'll pick up batteries, on Thursday I should hit the library.

I feel like a little kid, stamping my foot and screaming "I wanna go now!!!" as I pass by the suitcase on my way to the exercise mat. And while I may be engaged in cleaning the kitchen or reviewing a CD, the truth is my brain is already on the road. It left last week and hasn't sent a postcard yet. I have no idea where it is, but it definately isn't here. I just hope I pass it on the road somewhere.

11 days to go...