Off Track
My lovely weekend away has ended. Â I am back home amidst the chaos that is my own room. Â I am buried beneath two down comforters and one denim quilt. Â And I don’t want to be here.
A few years ago I went to the UK. London was great, and York was wonderful, but when I stepped off the train in Edinburgh I felt like I had come home. Â It was the craziest feeling. Â I had never been in Scotland before. Â I still don’t understand why being there felt so right. Â We only had a couple of days to spend in Scotland before we had to leave for Dublin. Â When the time came to leave, I got angry. Â That didn’t make sense to me either. Â The itinerary was not a surprise. Â We booked our Ryanair flight before we ever left the States. Â I was looking forward to seeing Dublin, land of my forefathers and all. Â But something in me did not want to leave Scotland. Â I knew I was acting like a brat, but that’s the way it was. Â My entire being was ticked that I had to leave and go somewhere else.
I have the same feeling now. Â I just did not want to come home. Â Okay, I was in Florida recently, and I didn’t want to come home after that, either, but that was totally about the weather. Â Who wants to trade 80 degree days for a snowstorm? But this time it just felt wrong to leave. Â And I’m acting like a brat again.
The weekend was not what I expected it to be. Â I was looking forward to a weekend of living it up – going out on the town, exploring some of the tourist destinations, catching up with acquaintances, getting in a couple of runs – and none of that really happened. Â There was a quick lunch with a friend of a friend, two drinks at a great little bar (one on the rooftop!), and an evening of dancing, but the majority of the weekend was spent hanging out at my friend’s apartment.
I was feeling under the weather, and between the cold medicine and the weather pattern that went from warm and sunny to an unexpected snowfall, I didn’t want to do much of anything. Â So we just hung out. Â We watched a lot of TV. Â I am now hooked on 30 Rock – I don’t even remember the last time I laughed so much at a TV show – and once again thinking about mastering modern video game controllers. Â I also took many meaningful naps. Â We shared some great pizza, some decent Chinese, and some really good conversation.
The weekend completely derailed, and I couldn’t have enjoyed it more. Â I would normally be aggravated that I bought a plane ticket for the vague purpose of exploring a city I would like to live in and never really saw any of it. Â In fact, I’m not really sure why I’m not. Â I am the neurotic person who likes to have a plan so I don’t have to worry about anything. Â We had no plan, and I still didn’t worry about anything.
Maybe it’s a reminder that slowing down isn’t such a bad thing. Â Maybe it’s a reminder that I don’t have to allot every minute of my day. Â And maybe it’s a reminder that it’s the people I spend my time with who matter. Â Or maybe I’m making too much of it, and I’m just going through 30 Rock withdrawal. Â I’m not really good at sorting these things out. Â I start to worry that I’m blurring cause and effect, and I make myself more than a little crazy with all the self-analysis.
Maybe all I can do right now is acknowledge that I had a great weekend. Â And look for season 3.
Print article | This entry was posted by Amy Confetti on February 22, 2011 at 9:39 pm, and is filed under Uncategorized. Follow any responses to this post through RSS 2.0. You can leave a response or trackback from your own site. |