One more week of endless emails.
One more week of a never-silent phone.
One more week of exhaustion and stress.
Just seven more days until I am officially on vacation.
I cannot wait for next Tuesday. Because next Tuesday morning, I will be on an Air-Berlin flight headed to Europe.
It still hasn’t sunk in that I’m about to be in Europe on a well-deserved month long vacation. The avalanche of calls, emails, invoices, reports, problems, and egos has kept my mind from wandering to the light at the end of my 7-day tunnel.
My list of things to do before I fly out is long. Too long. Realistically, there’s no chance that I’ll get my projects ahead of the curve enough so that they aren’t affected by my month-long absence.
That’s been one of the reasons why I haven’t taken a legitimate vacation for 4 years. My projects always need me; my boss always needs me, resulting in work having the top priority in my life.
But that needs to change. Work will always need me, but I need vacation.
I already know that I’m still going to have that voice in my head thinking about all the things that need to be done and hoping my boss has remembered to do them.
I’ll have the phantom ringing phone in my pocket, and I’m sure my dreams will continue to be about work.
Except the difference will be that I’ll be on vacation. That means I don’t have to stress or worry about what’s going on back in lovely SoCal.
I already know that whatever busyness I am experiencing now will be exponentially increased with all the work piled up and waiting for me when I return. It’s going to be rough. My boss has already joked that he will not do anything on the project until I return. I really hope he was joking.
I don’t know what my boss is going to do. He’ll either get my co-workers to carry my work-load (which would really suck for them) or he’ll just deal with the most critical items. There’s really only one way to find out.
So I’m not excited about vacation right now.
All I see is the mountain of work that needs to be done now, and I foresee the mountains of work that will be waiting for me when I return.
I want to be excited. I want to gleefully count down the days, but there is too much on my mind.
I haven’t packed. I haven’t gone shopping. I haven’t even made a list of what I’ll need.
To make this week even better, I’m still trying to buy a condo so this afternoon I met up with an agent who showed me two condos. One will hit the market Thursday, and I am getting my ducks in a row so I can put a competitive offer on it. Who says I can’t successfully manage a condo in Escrow while I’m in Europe?
Maybe I’m too ambitious.
Maybe, like my dad told me once at dinnertime, “You have more on your plate than you can handle”. Of course, I proved my dad wrong, but I paid the price with a stomachache that my pride made me silently endure.
I’m just trying to prove to myself that I am an adult capable of great things.
Don’t laugh; I’m just rambling – hoping somehow to trick myself into surviving the week.