First, let me say this – vacation as a concept is SPOT ON. I’d like to take the opportunity to salute whomever it was that invented flying to foreign lands, drinking and eating too much, and neglecting work responsibilities. Good call. And vacation seems to have a restorative effect, too, which makes us imagine ourselves to be better people than our real lives allow us to be. I realized today, while driving down a mountain in Provence, having had more drinks with lunch than I’ve had since… the last time my boss and I had a marketing-arita luncheon (a lunch that involves the eating of taquitos and the drinking of margaritas, with only sporadic conversation about our company’s marketing strategy), that vacation always feels like a clean slate. Every time I go on vacation, I act like it’s New Year’s Eve and burden myself with resolution after resolution. And when I get back, I act like it’s New Year’s Day and forget each and every one. So, in the hope that you won’t allow me to shirk these, I’m posting them here. Complete with interior monologue (my conscience is a bitch!).
Iz’s Subconscious: This should be easy, you think, I haven’t craved McDonalds once since I’ve been here! Yeah, dumbass, that’s because you’re in the French countryside where a) there is no McDonalds and b) everything other people cook you is way better than anything you could make or buy. Nice sentiment, though – way to be completely unrealistic.
Iz’s Subconscious: This one is even more ridiculous. I know I’m just your subconscious, but were you there today when you could barely run up the hill to get out of the way of that truck? Or when you complained of boredom after walking for 45 minutes? Do you know how long a marathon is, genius? Let me spell it out for ya. 26.2 miles. For you that’s… about 11 hours.
Iz’s Subconscious: Oh, yes, it’s so calming and peaceful. Great exercise, too. You could stop spending money on running shoes (that, by the way, you don’t use) and just buy bikinis instead. I would be in full support of this, except that there’s a reason you don’t swim, dumbass. It’s because, in the real world, it does matter what your hair looks like. And where, pray tell, are you going to find an extra 40 minutes a day to blow it out after your morning swim, hmmm?
Iz’s Subconscious: Did you think of this one between Emily Giffin books? Or perhaps after finishing John Grisham’s latest? Or was it when you dropped your Us Weekly in the pool and had to read that Nancy Drew book you found until your iPad could charge? (By the way, Nancy Drew? Not a classic.)
- Achieve a better work-life balance
Iz’s Subconscious: Why, smarty pants, do you think you don’t have this to begin with? Oh, right. It’s because you are a nutjob for whom everything in life is all-or-nothing. Exhibit A: You are signed onto your work email right now, as you type this blog post. Are too, I see you! But this is the first time I’ve checked it since Tuesday, you lie (to me, your subconscious – a clear manifestation, if ever there was one, of the fact that you are a nutjob.) And even if it were true (which it isn’t, you little liar), that would only mean that the “all” in question was the proverbial “life,” while “work” represented the “nothing.” This isn’t even vaguely sustainable. But why not? Because you like to eat. And wear clothes that haven’t been donated to you. Good going, dumbass.
Iz’s Subconscious: Not sure how wine for breakfast helped you to come to this conclusion, but forget it. This is a terrible idea. (Editor’s note: my subconscious and I have something in common.)
So, kids, there it is. It turns out the sun has fried my brain into believing I am capable of all of the things of which I haven’t been capable in the last… ever. Stay tuned for next week’s sequel: The Dissolution of My Mid Year’s Dissolutions: How Being Home From Vacation Has Made Me A Cranky Old Bitch.
This is where I am.