vacation days are a hot commodity

As someone who lives in a cubicle 50 weeks a year, I treat vacation days as this all-important commodity, even more important than toilet paper on a backpacking trip. I horde my days, guard them, keep lengthy pro-and-con lists about how to use them.

By the middle of the year, I've usually taken less than half of my days. I like to save the bigger chunk for fall, when my stored up vacation energy will burst out, and I'll take that trip I have deemed worthy of my vacation days.

Last year, it was back to France for Thanksgiving in Normandy with good friends; this year, I'm thinking it'll be Prince Edward Island for a half-marathon/pretending I'm Anne of Green Gables.

And when I am on vacation, I like to make the most of every moment. Isn't that in the Bible, kind of and in a completely different context? “Make the most of every opportunity, for the days are evil.”

In my twisted version of the Bible—not to be trusted for true theological discussions and decisions—that verse is: “Make the most of every opportunity every day, especially on vacation days, for the unproductive and lazy days are evil.”

I have this issue with relaxation: it doesn't come easily to me, and dang it, isn't everything supposed to come easily to me?

When you start speaking in selfish italics in your head, you know it's time for a heart and humility check. It's time for a vacation from accomplishment as affirmation and approval, which sounds like a fun vacation to go on but is, in reality, a hard one to take.

{And oh my, I just realized that I made vacation with me sound not fun.  I am a very fun person.

Usually, if you have to stress your fun-ness, you're not really all that fun.  That is not true in my case.  I'm not an uptight, thoroughly-scheduled person all the time on vacation.  Really, as long as I can know where and when I'm eating, I'm pretty good with spontaneity.  Well, in a planned sort of way.}