Wednesday, August 5, 2009

A vacation? What’s that?

I’m leaving town, something I do infrequently enough to make it newsworthy. I’d love to say this is an exciting business trip to New York or San Francisco, though frankly flying is such a pain these days, I can’t imagine how a business trip could be exciting. I’d also love to say I’m going somewhere exotic to sit on a beach and sip marguerites, but alas it isn’t that either. The truth is I’m going to visit my daughter, and I plan to work a good part of the time. “Travel light,” she suggested. “Just bring a carry-on.” I laughed. “My entire office is packed in my carry on.” The rest of my belonging are in the heaviest suitcase I’ve ever owned. What was I thinking?

I have told all my clients that this will be my chance to catch up on their projects, thus raising their expectations en masse. “I won’t be distracted,” I insisted, though that may not be entirely accurate. First, there is Milo (the wonder dog), who is the real reason for my trip. If you have ever read one of my blogs, you know all about Milo, so I shall spare you the superlatives.

Second, there is the pool, which is right outside my room; and though I cannot bring myself to swim at home, I cannot miss my daily swim on these annual trips. Third, there are “plans,” apparently lots of them. My daughter keeps sending me e-mails saying how would you like to do this … or go there  … or eat at  … ? And they all sound like fun, so, of course, I say yes. The only thing that augurs well for getting any work done is that my daughter and son in law both have jobs. Of course, my daughter plans to come home for lunch to be sure I’m not lonely. Fitting work into my busy schedule is going to take some planning.

The question is why do I take enough electronics and files with me to keep me busy for life when what I really need is to do nothing? Because I have commitments to my clients. Because I am incapable of doing nothing. And, because I am a workaholic. It’s not that can’t relax. I have also brought half of library of books with me to read during down time.

Years ago, a very good friend told me there are two kinds of people in the world: those who work to live and those who live to work. He was the former; I am obviously the latter. What would I do if I didn’t work? Who would I be if I were not a writer? It is not chic to pose those questions, especially on line (I am assuming here that millions of people are reading my blog), but since bloggers have implicit permission to be candid and truthful, I’m just putting it out there for all the world to read.

Frankly, I don’t have answers to those questions. All I know is that what I do for a living is what I do for fun, for relaxation, for an outlet, for a diversion, and on and on. At this point in my life, I’m not sure I would change if I could.