We just got back late in the night from Grand Cayman. Got a little jet lag settling in along with the urge to eat. Travelling is exhausting and I often wonder if the destination is really worth the effort.
Life’s a beach and you need to be on one.
Our flight from Grand Cayman to Charlotte was delayed for 2 ½ hours due to a bird strike on the incoming plane. I know that is fairly common, sad for the bird and stressful for all the humans involved. Fortunately, our connecting flight to Denver had a three hour layover so we made the connection with minutes to spare. This is an all-too-common story and many of you have worse tales to tell. Still it makes you begin to wonder if travel is worth it.
Life’s a beach and sometimes you’re not sure where it is.
Being the anxiety driven person I am, I really have to want the destination to go through the effort involved. We had not ever been to Grand Cayman so we looked forward to the trip. Beautiful beaches, lush vegetation and pretty homes dotted this little paradise. Sunshine, palm trees, blue water, what was there not to like?
But something was lacking. WTF?! Am I crazy? (I think we have already established that.)
I longed for home.
Haven’t you ever prepped and packed, lugged and carried, rode cars and trains and escalators and glides, stuffed you and your things into a tiny space, and endured the drone of the jet engine, all in a mad dash to get somewhere so you could relax? And then when the cortisol wore off, all you wanted was to be back at home in your own bed? I’m quite certain I’m not alone in this thought process. Sometimes the best place to be is in your own home, your own space with your own little beach.
So click your heels, Dorothy, because life’s a beach of your very own making.
Loving Your Sh*T 