Trippin'

We're suppose to drive down to Florida in two day, stay with some friends.  Without stops, the trip is better than nine hours.  

I am not looking forward to this.

I should be.

I should be excited that I'm getting a rental house, rent free.  I should be looking forward to a little beach time with the kids.  I should be anticipating relaxing, laughing, having fun.

But?

No.

The way I feel about this trip right now, I'd rather burn my hair.  I'd rather have my teeth removed with a hammer and rusty pliers, no Novocain.  I'd rather have a cactus shoved up my ass.

Nine-plus hours in the vehicle with two kids who are used to being free range, and another adult who lately seems more in need of a Midol than my company?  Woo-fuckin'-hoo.

We're going ona  shoestring, and if anything goes wrong, we're screwed.  I won't even know if I can buy groceries until we're there.  Long story, but it has to do with cash flow.

Once we're there, he'll have fun with our friend, and the kids will have fun, and me?  I'll be taking care of everything, all the responsibilities of home but in a strange environment, cleaning up messes, making sure the kids are okay...no relaxing, for me.  There is no such thing as vacation for mom.

This sucks.  I was looking forward to this trip...but in the last few days all I can think is I should send the man on his own and stay home because he sure as hell isn't acting like he wants me around...only i can't even do that because the wife of our friend is taking vacation time and has plans for us, and I told The Boy I would try to take him to the beach if we're close to one, and I can't be that selfish.

Fuck.  Me.

Vacation?  Hah!