Vacation-time coming up and I'm already worried.
There will be boredom and restlessness and I need to plan against it. I'm stocking up on
books (in my own two languages, for relaxation) and
magazines (in another language, for linguistic studies) and
photos (to sort out) and
sports bras (for beachvolley) and
limoncello (well, for consumption) and
tips on fun summer events around here (for consideration) and
addresses to the best flea markets within a hundred mile radius (for shopping) and good
music (for enjoyment and something to talk to my teenage nephews about) and
nail polish (for bare toes) and
patience (for family get-togethers) and
cider (for balcony cider evenings with my balcony cider buddy) and
borrowed poodles (for company).
I feel it won't be enough. I'll add episodes of
House M.D. (for desperate times).
And now I feel like a shallow whiner. What I really should do is go rescue drowning orphans out of the Mediterranean.