Vacation/Guilt

Jan 19, 2008 - 06:57 AM PST

So, as of Friday at 4:25 pm, I started my 2nd annual week's vacation. You'd think it'd be exciting, especially since in all of my working career/life after college/I'm-an-adult-now-making-these-plans-and-decisions-on-my-own, this is my second ever week long vacation I've taken.

Ehhh, but not so much!

I really really really really wanted to go some place exotic/warm/AWAY FROM HERE RIGHT NOW!!!! but I'm not. I can envision being on a white beach with the sun warming my face, a few palm trees here and there, the ocean and the sky the same hint of blue that when I look out into the never-ending distance, it really is never ending because the sky and ocean meet and then it's collided and you can't tell the difference, and it's okay. And the world outside of this setting is just a far memory, and I'm warm and everything is...good. [...sigh...]

I shouldn't complain though. I shouldn't. It's an ever-loving week off from work - a well need break, I must say. And well, paid.

So instead I remain...here. Where I apparently have this overwhelming guilt for not telling my father that I have a week off and here I remain and that I won't be visiting him, and even though his birthday is coming up, I won't be there to celebrate it with him and that - AHHHHHHH!!

My head just swirls as I sit here and contemplate this "vacation".

I am not a lousy daughter, and I am not selfish. I moved away because I need to live my life, I had his blessing, and now here I am. I did not move away to run away. This is my goddamn life! It's here, it's too short, jesus, it's been a whole fucking year and he has not once been to see me.

Why then, should I feel guilty?