Money, Schmoney!

Well, I did it. I took the plunge and booked myself a trip to Vegas. Actually, my sister booked it for the both of us and I paid her for my half.

I had to do it. I'm a much better person when I have a vacation to look forward to, and when I have had a vacation. It's for the children, don't you see? I do it for them.

So, just two short weeks after we return from Disney, I leave for Vegas. May I just say, I can't freakin' wait. Uninterrupted meals. Endless, finished conversations. Hot showers that will last longer than two minutes. Nobody appearing at the shower door just after I've stepped in, saying, "Mom, I have to poop!" Nobody standing near the back of the toilet, closely inspecting whatever I have just voided (and offering running commentary). Nowhere to be, nothing that I MUST do.

A drink! A blessed, mind-numbing martini! Or two. Or four. I always say that I'm going to get drunk and stay drunk while I'm out there, but it never happens. I have one and then I stumble around looking for a bed in which to sleep. I need to macho up before this next time and give it my best effort.

I do feel slightly guilty about the money aspect. But, before I quit my job, I cut my own deal. I made it very clear that I was still going to get my daily fix of Starbucks. I also held strong to the conviction that I was still going to Vegas twice a year. The husband was in no position to argue at that point, since I was giving up my ENTIRE life for him and the girls.

By the way, I don't mean to sound like a bitch. I did it for the girls, mostly. I really did, and still do, want what is best for them. It just stings every now and again that I gave up my career (you know, the job I loved and wanted to do since I was 10).

I gave up the Starbucks but, by God, I am not giving up the Vegas.