Southbound Home

With the holiday season fast approaching, and my rigorous work schedule winding down, it’s time for me to begin enjoying myself a little more. My dreadful schedule over the past month and a half has been mentioned ad nauseum on this website, so there’s no need to rehash it again now. But the girl has been suffering as well, less vocally, and she deserves a bit of a break herself. The struggles of becoming acclimated in a new job and new office environment, and with putting up with me throughout my busiest time of the year, and all that comes with that (i.e, imagine a two year old, whining and crying every time he wants something, except with the ability to precisely vocalize what it is that he wants, often with cursing, but I digress) has made her sick with exhaustion. Literally. Pile on top of that travel, while still ill, and you can see that The Girl is much more of a trooper than I am.

So, in the spirit of looking forward to a less stressful time in both of our lives, we sat down a while back to plan our holiday schedule. Anyone that has done such a thing knows the types of questions and discussions and honesty that such a planning session necessitates. “Shall we spend one, both, or neither holiday together?” “Shall we spend the holidays at your parents’ house, my parents’ house, or in our own house?” And on, and on, and on, until the questions and discussions about the holidays become more stressfull than the daily grind that the holidays are supposed to be a relief from.

An agreement was in time reached. We chose to spend Thanksgiving with The Girl’s parents in Athens, GA. A compromise was reached though, so that we didn’t have to fly (Which is a topic for another post at another time. Suffice it to say though, not many people have picked me up at an airport and heard me utter the words, “THAT was a great flight”). It was determined that we should make a whole week of it, driving, and making pit stops in North Carolina on the way down and back. The intent is to take it slowly, and to enjoy ourselves, and each others’ company, and our surrounding scenery, and generally do what the holidays are intended for. Which means we’ll be arguing about how fast I’m driving, and what station to put the radio on, and which route to take. I am excited, nonetheless.

For the Christmas holidays, and even more intricate plan was devised. For myself, having a vast amount of personal time to use, and not a lot of pressing work to be done during that time of year, driving again seemed like an optimal plan. But there was a hitch. The Girl, having just accepted a new job, with a new company, would not have so much personal time at that point so as to be able to make a journey by land. The compromise reached was that I would drive to Athens, once again, for Christmas. The Girl is flying into Atlanta, and I’m picking her up and carrying her in my Hunter Green, 140 Horsepower sleigh to her parents, for a wonderful weekend of Christmas merriment. On Christmas day, I’ll continue on to lovely Oxford, Mississippi, where I’ll spend the week enjoying the company of friend’s and family. The Girl will fly back to DC after Christmas, and the subsequent Friday will fly to Memphis, TN, so that she can accompany me to my sister’s wedding on Saturday, and to various bars and other unmentionables Sunday night, New Year’s Eve. She’ll then depart through the air again, towards DC, as I take the long romantic ride back, through Tennessee and Virginia hills and countryside’s alone, left to ponder this great country of hours, and the effect that travelling it by land seems to have on me.