A little while ago, I took 72 hours to do nothing but make myself happy. Now, before I go on, I should probably state that despite what you may be thinking right now, this posting is not R rated. In fact, the only thing keeping it from being lamely G-rated is the mention of red wine and night-clothes (scandalous!).
This is what happened:
I picture my life being like a balloon and with every new stress added, the balloon inflates a bit more. And over the past two months or so, my balloon inflated at an insane rate until it just...popped.
I really just wanted to step off this big blue marble for a bit. And think. And by think, I don't mean about the 10 million things I worry about every day, but about me.
And so began the most relaxing 3 days I have ever had.
I am not going to bore you with every little detail but suffice to say, I found myself smiling inwardly a whole bunch of times over the weekend.
|A little bite of heaven at the Atlanta Airport|
My second major moment of happiness came the next morning at the Farmer's Market. The location had changed since the last time I was there so I wasn't quite sure I was in the right place but when I turned the corner and heard the music, saw all of the brightly-coloured booths, and smelled the most amazing, dizzying aromas of flowers, produce, breads, kettle corm, barbecue, and conch fritters (just to name a few), I knew I had found it. I didn't know where to start, so like the song says, I started at the very beginning. The first booth had the most beautiful fresh produce. Including these giant avocados. I even commented to the woman next to me about the insane size of these avocados. And when I got closer, the sign confirmed that these were not your average avocados.
Of course I bought one. Along with tomatoes, basil, arugula, sun-dried tomatoes marinating in rosemary & garlic olive oil, a fresh baguette, and burratta cheese (one of my new faves; its very fresh ricotta cheese enclosed by fresh mozzerella. Omg!). Later that night I made myself what I can only describe as the best sandwich I have ever made (don't tell all the other sandwiches I said that. I wouldn't want them to get jealous).
|I loved this sandwich so much I ate it again for breakfast. If you look closely, you can see me in the background in my pj's taking the photo. This sandwich was slightly better because I chopped up the sundried tomatoes. Duh. |
|Sand, sun, surf, and a Starbucks iced coffee. Sigh...|
I love the beach.
The perfect day, right? You would think. But it gets even better. First of all I got to wear my favourite pj's that my husband hates. He (un)affectionately calls it "Monkeys in Love" as it is an awful red nightshirt covered in hearts and Paul Frank monkeys smooching. Hence the name. So here I am, in bed with my monkeys and a glass of wine and the first of two awesome books I read that weekend, Welcome to Utopia: Notes from a Small Town. Right now I am really into non-fiction, especially when the characters and the setting are so detailed. At the end of great fiction, I am always wondering what happened next in their lives and I feel frustrated. But with non-fiction, as soon as I finish the next page, I can flip open my computer and find out what happened next in their lives. And believe me, at the end of this book, you will want to know what happened to their lives. The second book I read was Committed, by Elizabeth Gilbert, the same woman who wrote Eat, Pray, Love, a book I have quoted from more than any other book. Committed was great too, but in a totally different way. Instead of self-examination, it examines the institution of marriage, something that I find personally easier to read when alone when there is little to no risk of someone nearby reading my mind. Its amazing how books can tap into you in such a personal way that you actually feel naked when discussing them with others. There are only a handful of books that have made me feel this way, and Committed is one of them.
Fast-forward a few more hours and I find myself in hour 71, my escape from Planet of the Crazy coming to an end. I picked up my baggage, now feeling a little bit lighter and went home, excited to get back to my husband, my babies, and my other real life. And yes, I did have another Whopper with cheese in the Atlanta airport.