Vacation!

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Vacation!It’s been just over 30 years since I took a real vacation.  The last honest-to-goodness vacation I took was with my first wife in 1988.  Our honeymoon.  Mostly camping and traveling around Michigan.  Not an expensive vacation.

Any other vacation I’ve taken has been merely time off work to do something specific.  Never to just get out of town and do something completely new and different.  This one is not far from an exception.  It is however, freedom to do as I like within my means.  Though I confess I’ve posted this now that it’s over.  A few reasons for this.  Thieves prey on those who admit they won’t be home and take advantage of the opportunity.  Secondly because I know a few people would take advantage of my having time off for their own benefit.  They think because I’m taking time off work, that I should help them with… work.  The object of a vacation is to relax.  Decompress and regroup.  If all I’m doing is more work, it’s not much of a vacation.  I’ve taken days off on occasion just to do my own fall yard work.  Clearly they weren’t a vacation.

Though knowing my current job.  I took precautions and blocked all phone numbers I have associated with my job.  They know I’ll likely be in town, they’d screw me and call me in.

Now keep in mind, I don’t get paid time off or sick days.  I merely saved up money enough (outside of my normal savings account) to cover my wages for a week.  I paid for my own vacation… time.  Working 9-12 hour days every single week takes it toll on a person.  I’m getting older, my tolerance for working such long hours isn’t what it used to be.  I have arthritis, plantar fasciitis and coronary artery disease.  The fact I work a full time job is hard to do.  I’m in pain and tire easily.  I do try not to let it get me down.  Even though I reduced the number of days I work to 4, I still get overtime frequently.  I needed a damn break.

Yet I feel guilty.  Like I’m not supposed to be given a break.  Like I’m not supposed to be happy.  The first couple of days went well, relaxed and started looking for a house to buy.  By the end of the second day (which were normally my days off to begin with), I couldn’t shake this feeling like I wasn’t being a good person and going to work like I should.  It’s not like I’m close to anyone at work.  I’m hardly close to anyone at all anymore.  Like I’m a burden and unworthy.  Those who I’ve tried to make friends with, let me down all too quickly.  One still thinks we are friends, but frankly he annoys me and constantly plays at me like I enjoy being touched sexually by a man.  Fucking Eww…  Or listening to my name being called out repeatedly.  I don’t.  I could easily do without him.  I prefer women thank you.  Real, born with a vagina women.  Who identify as a woman.  I digress.

So here I sat with a guilty conscience and time off.  Not an ideal vacation.  Still.  It was time off.  Away from work.  Away from normal everyday things I usually do.  Time for me to do whatever it is I wanted to do.  I mean that’s the whole point of a vacation right?  I do feel better despite the feeling guilty.

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