So, my parents and I are about to leave for our family beach trip. We're staying in a house with my brothers, sister-in-law, brother's girlfriend, baby nephew, and a dog. As long as I get my own space, I'll be a happy camper.
I move pretty slowly in the mornings, but my mom is the slowest packer of all time. She spends most of the time fretting over every little detail. I guess someone has to be responsible for all the details.
My dad is currently struggling to squeeze a 600 lb corn-hole game he purchased for the cost of a really nice pair of shoes into the already overpacked car. I don't understand why he is so stubborn about bringing it along; I can't imagine anyone will want to haul it out to the beach in the 100 degree heat. Nose goes on that one. It is about as tall as a door frame and impossible to lift without a second pair of hands. Apparently corn-hole is "in vogue" now—how is that even possible? And, has any game ever had a less appealing name?
We are staying somewhere in Virginia Beach, a first for our family. I'm not sure what to expect, but at least I know there will be ocean, and sunshine, and books to read, and good music to listen to, and cold beer to drink. I absolutely love sitting out on the beach and listening to a song that makes me feel totally transcendent—you know what I'm talking about? A high without drugs. I love my mountains, but it's hard to beat the sights and sounds of the beach. Mornings when the sun is rising and the sky is a thousand different hues and the beach is deserted save a few dedicated joggers and gulls dipping down into the waves. Cool nights and calm waters. Whitecaps and boats dotting the horizon.
We have to leave now. If I sounded overly pessimistic in this post, it's because A) that's my go-to mode and B) I'm always in a much worse mood when I haven't had much sleep. But really, I am looking forward to this trip. And seeing my family. Well, I'm not 100% on that last part, but you know how it is.