I do my best thinking when I drive and since I just drove over an hour round trip for a HaleyCakes cupcake, I did some primo thinking. My brain stew was all about how once in my “youth” someone made a comment that life would be over when I hit my 40s.
I’m spontaneous. When I go on a trip, I just go with the flow. I see what I wanna see, and do what I wanna do.
I’m a planner. Before I go on a trip, I usually know what I’m doing, eating, and even wearing every single day.
Which of these do you think is me?
I’ve done trips on both ends of the spectrum, and while I enjoy my travel companions, my solo trips tend to be the ones of the first variety, and in turn are some of my favorite excursions. Tor worked during the day and had meetings most nights, so for the better part of the day I did only what I wanted to do. On the first day, it snowed so I sat in the hotel room and wrote most of the morning. I was perfectly content with my hotel breakfast and my laptop, sitting by the large picture window weaving my tales. The snow melted rather quickly so I spent the afternoon at a mall, and then a book store. It was a good day!
It occurred to me later that night that some might think I wasted the day. I could write and shop in Texas, couldn’t I? Why do it in a location that has so much more to offer? Because I’m a big girl and I can do what I want, right? You bet your granny’s sweet tea I can! I decided to let go of the idea of what I “should” be doing and just go with the flow. Vacation police are not a real thing.
On Tuesday I went to Salem where I spent hours in a graveyard. It was my third trip (third and a half really but that’s another story) to Salem, but my first trip to that particular grave yard. That’s all I did in Salem. But that was okay because the grave yard was the highlight of my day. That’s when I told myself, “It doesn’t matter what I do each day, as long as I do at least one thing each day that makes me happy!”
Wednesday I visited my beloved Concord. That’s a whole other post in itself, which I will get to, but several things that day made me happy.
Thursday I decided, since this was at least my 4th or 5th trip to the Boston area, I must actually see Boston. A flat tire interrupted those plans, so instead I went to the hotel restaurant, had a cheeseburger and wrote. You’d think nothing that day would make me happy, but I got a lot of writing done and that was one damn good cheeseburger!
Friday was checkout. That morning I began to think about all of the other things I “should” have done. Had I wasted the week? If I had, it was too late because the trip was almost over. I headed back to Concord to a shop I’d read about online. I saw many things I wanted, but I’d put myself on a tight souvenir budget, preferring to spend my money on experiences, rather than things. But then I saw something that was not only the perfect souvenir, but the perfect ending* to the perfect week. It says, “Do one thing everyday that makes you happy.”
*It was the ending of my week in MA, but the beginning of a wonderful weekend in Maine.
This is one of my favorite places to be. Yup, it’s a graveyard. No, I don’t know a soul there. I just like to hang out under this tree and talk to the family buried underneath it. I asked the parents once why the daughters were segregated from the rest of the family, but no one had a good answer for me. They don’t talk much…or at all. Probably a good thing. Sometimes I wish they did. I want to know their stories, but for now I’ll just make up my own.
So glad many of my friends are also writers. Not many people would understand when you say you didn’t get to sleep until almost 2am last night because you had to keep getting up to write down what the voices in your head were saying to you.
But thanks to imagination induced insomnia, my book not only has a prologue, but also a title. My goal is to have it pitch ready for the writing conference in May.
They say being brave isn’t the absence of fear, but rather doing that thing which you are afraid of despite that fear. So then, what is the word for going to the gym when what you really want to be doing is diving face first into a plate of cookies? Willpower? Determination? Insanity?