A couple of weeks ago Andy and I went to Los Angeles for his birthday weekend. Andy picked Los Angeles because it is his dream to live in downtown LA in a loft. This is not my dream, at all, but I could handle it for a weekend. So we rented a downtown loft on Airbnb and drove up after work on Friday.
I was excited, because I LOVE vacations. Who doesn't? Vacations are wonderful and delightful and refreshing. There are new things to see and learn and eat. But with all of this wonderfulness I start cultivating increasingly unmanageable expectations. This won't just be a lovely vacation, it will be a perfect vacation.
Putting pressure on yourself to have a perfect vacation is a terrible way to start out. There are so many things you can't control, like the weather or the traffic or the food poisoning. But my biggest problem is that I'm not even that great at being in charge of myself in aew situation. They make me edgy: I'm not in my normal comfort zone, I don't know what I'm doing, and this increases the chances that I might, *gasp*, do something wrong. It makes me anxious.
Combine all this (astronomic expectations + discomfort in new surroundings) with the fact that we normally leave for vacations on Friday at the end of long work weeks when I am pretty tired, and you have a recipe for several minor emotional breakdowns.Read More