More Trouble With Trips

When I woke up this morning to my alarm clock (the first time in nine days), I felt the most intense lack of desire to be alive. It was as if I had awoken just before the good part of a really great dream. This, of course, wasn't the case. I was simply waking up to my first day back to work after a week long vacation.

My job isn't that bad. I don't know why I dread it so much. Waking up and going to work is always a chore -- mostly because at work you are doing things that you are told to do instead of what you choose to do -- but, it's even more of a chore when it comes after not having to wake up and go to work for over a week.

Florida -- where I went on vacation -- was fantastic. I did a lot of nothing. I joined my dad early in the morning to watch the sunrise. I laid by the pool. I swam in the ocean. I repeated this most days.

I had some amazing dinners with my grandpa and his wife, my dad and his wife, and my step-sister and her daughter. (It just occurred to me that I was the seventh wheel...)

I "chewed the fat," as my grandpa would say, with him and my dad while we smoked cigars.

My grandpa made me a Manhattan the way he likes 'em. (It was fantastic, by the way).

One day, I went to Universal Studios. It was quite a blast.

I went out on my own a few nights and had some drinks while watching bands. I played my guitar by the fire pit at the resort I stayed at for people and for no one. I played my guitar for the ocean.

And I did it all on my own terms, when I wanted to. There wasn't anything that was due at a certain time. There was no one to call ASAP. There was nothing to do that I didn't want to do.

Except come home.

Upon arriving in NY, a friend requested my attendance at a small gathering in Saratoga. I went there instead of home. I stayed in Saratoga later than I had intended. Then, I eventually went back to my apartment.

I went to bed and woke up the following day on my terms. I met up with the guys from Foxmen and jammed on a couple songs we haven't played before. Then I came home and was hit with an immediate sense of dread. The next morning, the alarm would signal my need to wake up and go to... work.

The trouble with taking a trip is returning to the nine to five.

I survived my first day back. However, I continue to feel a pretty deep sense of emptiness. The loss of having all of my time to do with what I wish is really having an intense effect on me.

Counting down the days until I have enough time to take another week off...