10 Days Of Reflection

I am lucky enough to get three weeks of paid vacation. Such a nice treat. I’ve already been on two of them and they were pretty lame. Lame in a good way. I didn’t leave the house. I didn’t spend money to go on some lavish trip to some unknown destination. I didn’t visit out-of-state friends. I didn’t do anything. I did what any sensible person would do if they were given 10 days away from their job.

Not a damn thing.

That is what I plan on doing this time. I like to use my vacation time as a way to shut off the world around me and just be alone. I do have some things planned but it won’t get me out of the house. I’ll veggie it up with a marathon of “Psych”. I’ll maybe partake in a drink or 12. The only time I will actually leave the house is to run. I’ll run and finally, after 9 months of pain, blisters, and sweat, I’ll reach 500 miles of running and be able to tell you all about it.


Will I be running to my phone to cater to your plans of fun and excitement? No. Your phone call means nothing to me. I’ll compare your phone call to how much interest I have in the birth of Snookie’s baby or what has been actor is now dancing their way to reclaim some sort of fame on the ABC network. Your plans can go on without me. Pretend I am Lindbergh baby. After a week or so, I’ll pop up, unharmed with many stories circling around about what really happened to me during those treacherous 10 days. Actually, don’t pretend that. That baby ended up dead and I am pretty sure I’ll stay alive and not wind up on the side of some rural road for a truck driver to find my rotted remains.

I just want a vacation where I am not bothered. People annoy me beyond explanation. Really, you do. I am not a people person. I just am not that kind of person. I like my solitude. I like the feeling that I can walk freely around in my apartment. Just me in my birthday suit and not having to worry about roommates or Grandma Judy sneaking a peek at what lies between my jelly-like thighs.

It wasn’t always like this. I would’ve jumped to the opportunity to kick it with friends a few years ago. Now that I am older and my partying days are over, I rather just stay home and cuddle up with a pillow, a box of Fannie May, and a few watchings of The Notebook. I don’t go out because I just don’t trust people. I over think everything and when you say something that means nothing, I will tear it apart, piece by piece and over analyze it proving to you and me that your meaningless chat with me was in fact, something meaningful and possibly hateful.

I always have some odd feeling that if I was ever invited to some party it will not be a party with cake, booze, and balloon animals. It will be people who I obviously wronged. People who I fed mayo filled donuts to. Maybe a person who I constantly harassed by calling his dad Hitler. Maybe a guy who I harassed for his beliefs. Maybe a girl I made cry or a gal I slapped. Maybe the girl whose car I wrapped plastic wrap around. It could be any of those people. That is one reason why I keep to myself and don’t interact with the public very often. Who knows what sinister plans they are cooking up. What if they invite me to some party and by the night’s end I am dead, or worse. They humiliate me. I will not condone that sort of behavior. They only way for me to keep safe from ending up in the cross fire of laughter and ridicule is to not go out. Just stay home. Don’t let them win. Don’t converse with people. Don’t let people into your life. That is why I have about zero real friends. Sure, you think you’re a friend but you’re not. You are just someone I know well enough to not be called an acquaintance. If we work or have worked together, then you still don’t fall into the friend category. You’re a co-worker. Nothing more. Don’t try to cross that boundary into friendship territory. I don’t need friends. I don’t need people to talk to about my problems. My problems are kept safe from you and everyone. I’ve got 99 problems and you’ll know none. There is no need for me to weep and share what bothers me over coffee and some cinnamon strudel cakes. We’re not friends. This isn’t some Lifetime drama. I don’t attend Degrassi Junior High. Life isn’t solved in 30 minutes (22 if you include commercial breaks)

So you see, my vacation will be very exciting. I’ll have some drinks and do a little running. Aside from those two things I won’t be doing much else. I will not be seeking human contact or to chill with random people I know from work. I will not hang out with neighbors or other so-called “friends”. It will be 10 days of quiet solitude. I’ll work on projects and take this time to reflect on as to why I even decided to interact with people in the first place. God, sometimes I wish I was a leper. I have 10 days to figure this out and on the 11th, I’ll call you. We’ll have lunch.

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I like food. I like the smell of cinnamon.

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