It Shouldn’t Be Slower At Home

Dearest Rachel –

You know how, after some vacations, you’ve been places and done things such that you’re worn out from the exertion of going on that vacation? The sort where you come back thinking, “Gosh, it’s kind of ironic to admit it, but I need a vacation after my vacation?”

Yeah, this wasn’t really meant to be one of those kind of vacations. And it wasn’t, for the most part. Sure, I was writing you a lot more – although that was as much for my own benefit, as I want to be able to remember everything that went on, and in order to do that, things have to be recorded. It keeps me busy (and sometimes, keeps me from doing the full amount of socializing I probably should have been doing), and it gives me something to remember most of what went on for future reference. I’ll probably settle back down to one or two letters a day for now, because, really… what’s going on back here? Each day may be different in its slight way, but it’s nothing like the differences between one port of call and another.

This first full day back has proven to be such a shockingly boring day, but one that my body seems convinced I needed. The folks had told me, when they picked me up from the airport yesterday afternoon, that they would need to be away this afternoon for a medical checkup; Dad has gotten his second cataract surgery while I was away, and it would need continued attention. Routine stuff, nothing serious; indeed, he’s been talking up about how great it is to be able to see things without glasses (although technically, he still needs to wear shades, as his eyes are particularly sensitive to light as they recover from the effects of the surgery). With that being said, and the fact that I didn’t have anything pressing at the ‘office’ today, I thought it might be a good idea to leave when they did; after all, I had plenty of laundry I’d brought home that needed dealing with (yes, honey, I do laundry on a much more frequent basis than we used to back in the day. I suppose you might disapprove of my using so much water, but I’m just trying to keep things from piling up), and updating the clocks for Daylight Savings Time.

The thing is, those few little chores don’t really take up an entire afternoon. What does take it up, however, was catching up with Daniel on some of the videos he’s been watching in my absence (and conversely, showing him some of the things we would watch together even back in the day – I’d seen some of them while I was out, but it’s a ‘hanging out together’ thing). He got me into a whole series of gaming, and – after discovering I was tired out after the first couple of episodes and taking an hour-or-two-long nap before resuming the rest of the story – the next thing either of us knew, it was pushing eight in the evening, and apart from a couple slices of toast for breakfast and a few chips as an afternoon snack, neither of us had eaten much.

That’s a big change from the cruise ship routine, where a ridiculously extravagant meal at around six or so is de rigueur (well, I suppose I could have eaten at the late seating around eight, but that would mean going to bed on an absurdly full stomach. Not a good idea). Worse yet, now I (well, technically, we) need to decide what and where to get something from, rather than having it provided for me. Us. And then, I need to work up the motivation to actually do all that.

Considering how slow the day has been (slower than things had been all last week), you’d think motivation shouldn’t be a problem for me. It’s nice not to be confined to a single place anymore, right? I’m on my own, to go where I want and do what I want when I want. And hey, driving is like riding a bicycle, isn’t it; you never forget how, even after a while away from it.

And yet, and yet. You remember how difficult it was sometimes to decide what we wanted to do and where we wanted to go. Well, this is one of those times. The best I could come up with was that I had a mild hankering for haystack onions, believe it or not. It was Daniel who went online, and suggested I pick something up at Smashburger. It’s been a while, after all.

So, after a brief stop at the grocery store for a half gallon of milk and other incidentals (and passing by a cluster of firefighters coming in while I was making my way out – guess they were dealing with a code Bravo of their own. First time for everything, I suppose), I headed over to the burger place… only to find out that the fryer was being cleaned, and wouldn’t be ready for another ten minutes at least. Hey, it gives me a chance to put this together for you.

I know that I have this time, I suppose I should address the other question you might have for me; why are we not at church, like we’re supposed to be? It’s Monday, after all; club night. About that… Spring break is not consistent from place to place. There was a lot of talk of it happening last week, especially in Florida and (I would presume from all the people I encountered from there) North Carolina. But here, there hasn’t been much spring until just about now – and it’s spring with a vengeance, too, with a day that got up within striking distance of 70° or so. So, this is the week that the schools up here are closed, and kids are on vacation. So, Daniel and I are at complete liberty… to do absolutely nothing.

And that’s pretty much what we have done. So whether I needed it or not, I got that vacation from my vacation. Crazy, huh?

Anyway, I’ll catch you up later – if there’s anything to catch you up on. Until then, keep an eye out for me. Love you.

Published by randy@letters-to-rachel.memorial

I am Rachel's husband. Was. I'm still trying to deal with it. I probably always will be.

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