It’s almost here.
It’s really going to happen.
In less than 24 hours I will be on vacation. In about 36 hours I will be heading for our getaway suite.
I do believe we’ll lock the door (well, okay, auto locks since it’s a hotel but you get the idea) and not surface again until we’re so starved we have no choice but to go find somewhere to eat. This will take awhile because I’ve packed snacks.
I am going to walk in the door, set down our shit, strip off my clothes, dig out the candles, light them and the god damned fire, flop on the king sized bed and just fucking breathe for an hour while staring at the ceiling and enjoying the silence.
No dogs. No cats. No teenagers. No work. No emails to answer, assignments to issue, gift cards to send out, posts to proof and pay for, dishes to do, floors to vacuum, dust to ignore. No college kids downstairs screaming at one in the morning.
Just me and Taylor for days and days and days with nothing to do but enjoy each other. From Thursday afternoon until Tuesday afternoon – FIVE days, FOUR nights! – we can pretend the world exists only for us and we’re the only ones in it who matter.
Oh… And there is free breakfast, including waffles and hot eggs and stuff. Like, real breakfast, not that “here, have a stale muffin” continental shit.
Fuck. May have to get dressed to enjoy that.
I have a stack of books, more massage oil and candles and silk rose petals than I can fit in two Devine Playchests…
Gods, I am SO ready.