I miss the thrill of adventure (not to mention the warm weather) that comes with travel to far away destinations. Ireland is on the distant horizon (early this summer, so have faith; there is more glamour and a lot of green coming your way). When travel requires a suitcase and a round trip ticket rather than GPS and a tank of gas, the adrenaline kicks in a bit more.
More specifically, I leave behind the mundane. Adios grocery store; farewell pharmacy; goodbye doctor, dentist, hairdresser, personal trainer and tax man; no bills, no newspaper, no telemarketers, no snail mail. Travel is living in the moment, certainly appreciating every moment, every opportunity – the food, the culture, the sites, the sounds and smells. It’s life from a whole new perspective.
I’m not really me when I travel. Or maybe I’m just more me. Well, yes, there’s more of me although I’m working my butt off at the gym to change that. I mean suddenly I’m a woman of the world, more than a mom, a mate, a maid. I see things differently. I see me differently. Why, I could see me being a world ambassador with a few more miles under my seat belt. I could be another Hillary Clinton if I wanted. I'm certainly the right age.
Let’s face it; travel is my drug of choice. It certainly takes the edge off on a cold, winter day.
I know, too, that your drug of choice on Fridays is all those Fun Fotos. It’s the best prescription for curing cabin fever, so take two Fotos; oh, go ahead, take three Fotos, and don’t call me in the morning. I plan to sleep till noon.