I woke up today and started planning the most amazing vacation ever.
And then I remembered that I don’t like to do stuff.
I really don’t.
And I think plenty of people plan vacations every year out of habit or routine. We spend money that puts us further into debt and the vacations aren’t that fun anyway. Of course we create some great photos for Facebook or Instagram, but it’s all for show. We vacation because we think we should, or because we always have, or because our parents, or neighbors, or friends do it.
“We are going to have fun! Damn it!”
That’s the sort of vacation thinking that permeates a lot of these trips.
But many of us don’t don’t have fun, not really. We drag along our own anxieties and neurosis that we deal with at home. And we drag along the kids, or significant others, or some other people to bicker with when the inevitable stresses of traffic, airline delays, and sleep deprivation break us.
We also bring along impossibly high expectations that no experience or location could ever live up to.
I don’t know how this got started. Maybe it began in the 1950’s as part of the American Dream, when people had two weeks paid vacation every year and would go to the seashore, or the Grand Canyon, or something.
And I don’t want to poop on everyone’s vacation. If it brings actual joy, then it’s worth it no matter the cost. If it doesn’t, if it’s just habit, then why do it?
And for those of us that love time to just sit, that’s okay too. It really is.
I’ll just be hanging out with this guy.
Having fun. Damn it.