(the title wasn’t meant to be completely literal, FYI)
Have you ever experienced withdrawal after a week of non-stop partying? You feel completely exhausted and you know the only way to get right is to pull on your sweats and watch trashy tv, or read a book or whatever. But at the same time, you have this weird FOMO-like anxiety that compels you to text everyone in your phone book and beg them to meet you for happy hour, even though you haven’t seen half these people in years and you really just want to go home.
Does that happen to anyone else?
Lately, I’ve been feeling that way about traveling. We’ve been on the move constantly (I’m writing this from somewhere over the middle of America, maybe Kansas?) and even though I usually jump at any opportunity to get out of town, it’s been making me stressed and distracted. Even as I sit here typing this, I wish I was home in D.C., being bored. But the second I’m home in D.C., I’ll be desperate to escape. (Probably because the days we spend at home between trips are dedicated to real-life shit like going to class and paying bills and loading dishwashers and washing machines and dog bowls)
There’s got to be a scientific explanation for this roller coaster, right? Something involving endorphins or oxytocin or something like that.
Whether my theory is valid or not, I know I’m not alone on this “too much travel” thing. It feels like everyone I know is on the go 24/7, bouncing around between weddings and bachelorette parties and baby showers. I’m wondering if this phase of our lives ever truly ends. Will there be some downtime at any point in the future? Or will we just blink our eyes and all of a sudden we’ll be receiving invitations to our friends’ kids’ graduation parties and weddings?
Surely we’ll get to catch our breath before that happens, right??
On a somewhat related note, I’m told there will inevitably be some Round Two weddings, and while I sincerely hope all of my friends stay happily married forever and ever, I’m guessing the Round Two weddings will be much more enjoyable than the first ones. Or less intense, anyway. This is pure speculation, but I imagine that after you’ve been through a divorce you’re more focused on marrying the person who isn’t your ex than you are on the floral arrangements.
Speaking of second marriages, Jake and I will hit the 13 month mark on Sunday. Thirteen months is no time at all, in the grand scheme of what I hope will be a very long life together, but it’s been enlightening. Being a first timer in the marriage department, I tend to have higher expectations of Jake than he does of me: he needs me to be human; I need him to be Ryan Gosling in The Notebook. It’s made for some interesting learning moments, but I’d still say that being a second wife to your first husband is great work if you can get it. (Though I can’t imagine the situation is much fun if you’re the first husband to your second wife.)
I’m wandering. The vagabond life is doing awful things to my ADD.
We’re heading to Vegas to meet our second nephew who was born earlier this week. He pulled the ultimate baby brother move of showing up a few weeks early…on his older brother’s birthday, to be exact. I’m predicting major drama in the years to come, but maybe that’s just the Forgotten Middle Child in me being cynical.
Have a great weekend, wherever yours takes you.