Recently I made a Big Decision that is simultaneously causing more and less stress in my life, depending on which facet we’re talking about.
One end result is going to be that – at least for the foreseeable future – my travel is going to be sharply reduced.
And while I love, love, love to go somewhere (anywhere!), what I probably love even more is dreaming about going to that somewhere.
Backstory/digression: when I was a resident, we were more or less assigned vacation weeks at random. Our schedules were set up in rotational blocks and we were only allowed time off in certain ones, so you would end up with, say, the never-popular second week of November for your precious vacay. I went to a lot of places in the off-off season over those four years.
I spent a lot of time fantasizing about trips I’d want to take, though, and it probably took me three years to realize that the more stressed I became at work, the more wanderlust I experienced. Figuratively, I wanted escape. Now.
Fast forward: I still get that itch. For the past several years, I’ve usually had several work-related trips lined up at any given time, so the itch was easy to scratch.
But now that’s mostly going away, and for once my frequent flier miles are stagnating.
I was lamenting this turn of events with Spouse over the weekend when I realized that I have two random-ish weeks off in the beginning of December, and with eight years of hoarded Starwood Points and Delta miles, we could go somewhere pretty spectacular. He’s game to go, so the planning commenced.
I can’t wait to take off.