Things to See, People to Do...

So that was my vacation. Please disembark to your left and thanks for Riding Rob's Wild Week Off!

WHEEE!

I had 6 oodle's worth of things I wanted to do, and I only accomplished 1 bevy. There was just a quiver's of time; what could I do? I didn't even get 3 moments to relax. Granted: Spending quality vet time was not on my "to do" tally, but still, I had to find a place to put it. MyEx would have shown me where to put it, and my little dog too...

Really, It's best that the vet stuff happened on my week off. The panic frolic takes time. With a week off, I at least had more time to flex.

Why is it time off never works out like we plan? Why do we always need to leave eraser space? I'm an OCD inker from way back. When I was a kid, my Lego's were all numbered and color coordinated with little tape codes, then placed into baggies by size and shape. Yup.

Nope.

That's a lie. Not the OCD thing. That's a learned trait. It came and it's all about control. As a kid I was Robby of wild abandon. Let the Legos fall where they may!

"Robert Boyd is your room clean yet?!"

"Sure thing Mom!" Except the pile in the closet buried beneath the laundry…

Camouflage skills are very important as a kid. Whether turning Lego's to laundry or Bartles and James to Book bags and Gym rolls. It's all about survival.

As an adult we trade those skills for useful traits. Time tables take over our lives and hiding skills are replaced by the need to make money. In the mad money dash, I've apparently forgotten how to take a vacation.

What do I do now? What's next? Is there always a Next? Should there be? My mind is a pinwheel of flashy colors constantly spinning to the next breath of "doing." Yet all it does is spin in place.

I don't have a lot to show for my week. I've got a few Robby blogs, a doggie cone, doggie bandage, and lots of logged mileage on the car. I know that Lennon sang about life being what happened while you were out making plans, but I never planned on life rolling out like this. I'm beginning to realize the long and the short of life and plans and all I've got is a Lego Babel Tower of plans to show for it.

I planned on being a music director for a radio station by now. I'd do a few years on air, and either get Casey Kasem popular, or move into manipulating young America one song at a time.

"What are we going to do today, Rob?"

"Same thing we do every day, Pinky."

That plan just didn't pan out. I'm not mad. I'm not even frustrated, because somewhere in the living behind the scenes of a plan process I realized that that plan wasn't me. No not as in sour grape squash. More as in, I didn't want what I wanted. That happens to some plans. Sometimes even to the loftiest "to do's" of them all.

Thursday: Find somebody "Special" who'll "Do."

Friday: Get Married.

For some people that's the plan. I went to college with a lot of women whose sole purpose was to graduate with a Bachelor off the market. They'd patrol the hall like drooling hounds on the hunt. It was scary. Yeah sure, guys sniffed around too but those guys weren't looking to get married, they were on a different scent. They were looking at the short term "to do"s and not the long term "I do"s.

That's the thing though. Those poor girls. Once they took the item off the list, what was left? Having kids? Cool, great, and then?

Maybe that's why I have the huge list. Maybe even if I don't complete it, I always need to feel like I'm working towards something. Like that nightmare where I'm running in place. I'm moving. I'm a pinwheel spinning. Even if it's just "emptying cooler bottles from 10th grade book bag" I need to always have a goal.

So this week I ddin't accomplish much. I guess that's ok. I'll have something to do next vacation. Something that's on my list before "Friday: Get married"