I'm Looking for Somewhere

After lifting for the better part of last week, the "funk fog" has settled back in again. Neither Baby Girl nor I have slept well over the past few nights. I have more work to do than time I'm willing to give it. My already over-distracted brain is chanting "Go to sleep" over and over and over again. My stomach hates me. Everything I eat gives me some sort of gastrointestinal upset.

I need a vacation. Somewhere warm - with no signs of snow. Somewhere that doesn't require packing or unpacking (I know - a pretty tall order, but it's my daydream and I can craft it as I please). Somewhere that work cannot find me, that inept doctor's office billing agents can't find me, that only serves fresh veggies, fruits and seafood - and bread, chocolate milk and cheese. Somewhere that has banned To Do lists, computers, cell phones and the like. Somewhere that lets you send out a vibe that lets your friends know you think of them often, even if you rarely write, never call and find it almost painful to engage in any kind of lasting conversation of late.

I'm looking for somewhere where the only currency is love and food, where time is never spent on the mundane and ordinary and instead is lavished on the spectacular and beautiful, where spending an hour on the floor with the baby doesn't come with little voices reminding you of the laundry piles, or the work project or the bills.

The vacation must come with alternate portions of solitude, family engagement and wonderful happy hours with friends (speaking of which, I discovered the other day that the traditional Happy Hour is illegal in The Frontier), clean sheets daily, large sun-filled windows and a library that always had the newest books in stock.

I'm not sure I'll find it. But it feels nice for a just a moment to look.