Love and Hate

We're gearing up for a trip to Boston tomorrow. Neither of us has ever been before and one of the Husband's best friends lives up there so we're popping in for a long weekend and a visit with P.

I love travel. I do. I love seeing new places and experiencing new things. I love the different faces. I love cities. I do. I really do.

That said: I HATE travelling! Why do we do this to ourselves and call it FUN?!? Seriously! The laundry and then the packing and the provision for the CATS and then the AIRLINES!!! Let us not even discuss the state of air travel! And then the hassle of not knowing where you're going and trying to navigate a CITY with all of your LUGGAGE! And I'm a LIGHT packer! And the people! So. Many. New. People. What was I thinking in my wee introvert brain? And then the COST!!! Please, can we not contemplate the amount of money that travel costs? I need to breathe into a paper bag for a moment.

...

Okay. I think I'm moderately calmer now. In a theoretical sort of way I am looking forward to this. After all 2 whole days off work! YAY! 2 whole days with the Husband! YAY! 3 whole days with P all to ourselves! YAY! But seriously...I still wonder why I am doing this to myself. I could feasibly hide in my apartment for 4 days not checking email, not answering the phone (not that I answer the phone that much anyway...), and not changing out of my pajamas! I know. I know. Travelling broadens the mind and enriches our life through being and experience and blah blah blah.

Alright, already! I'm going now. If you need me, I'll be in Boston.