I leave for a week’s vacation in Texas on Sunday to visit my nephew James (and his parents). Before I can leave town, I’ve got a bunch of things to get done, including:
- Finishing up a work project.
- Submitting a conference proposal.
- Going to the draft for my baseball tickets.
- Having lunch with my brother and nephew D, post-draft.
- Doing the laundry.
- Cleaning out the fridge.
- Washing the dishes.
- Emptying the DVR enough to make room for next week’s shows.
- Downloading the new Springsteen album to have for the streaming-free plane ride.
- Packing. (Right. Can’t forget that.)
It’s not the longest pre-trip to-do list; nor is it the shortest. What it is, however, is the list with possibly the most time I’ve ever allotted myself before a vacation. Rather than flying out after work tonight or first thing tomorrow morning, I booked my flight for Sunday. And at the end of the week, I fly back on Saturday evening, rather than late Sunday night – allowing myself a full day to unpack, do the wash, buy groceries, etc.
It’s such an impossibly sane travel schedule. I can’t for the life of me figure out how this has never occurred to me before. I may actually be relaxed before I get on the plane – unheard of!