Plenty of Time for a Melt Down

My fourth of July came a little early.  At least that's what it felt like.  As the weekend approached I was wondering if I'd bitten off a little more than I could chew.  For a normal person, no big deal, but I'm not a normal person.  I'm a highly anxious traveler so having people over, then hopping on plan for a weekend trip, then coming home to get ready for another trip is kind of a lot for me to take in.  My parents arrived on Saturday.  My older sister and nephew arrived on Tuesday night.  They all drove back to Vegas on Thursday morning.  My little sister along with her husband and my niece arrived in Vegas on Thursday night, and I followed them all to Vegas on Friday evening.

The thing is.  I couldn't miss it.  I was really disappointed thinking that they might be coming out while I was gone and was thrilled to find out I'd still be here, so I didn't hesitate to get my tickets booked.  I couldn't miss out on seeing my little sis and I couldn't miss out on a family gathering.  They are just too few and far between.  I did see all the adults in April, but again.  It's rare.

I made a detailed packing list in Word a month in advance and carried it around with me so I could revise as needed.  I packed for Vegas the weekend before, but started packing for Germany three weeks in advance because when you work full time you don't really have three weeks.  You have three weekends.  I made multiple lists and checked them a million times twice. I ran around buying things I needed.  I started taking my trash to work.  I know.  Weird right?  I don't have neighbors to bring the trash bins in and it's never a good idea to piss off the HOA.  I got some cleaning done the day everyone left, and when Friday evening rolled around I was ready.  To bad my plane wasn't.  One hour delay.  Super annoying, because this is the 3rd time out of the last three times I've flown to Vegas, but one hour is a heck of a lot better than four.  C'mon Southwest I really like you, but you are testing my patience.

I went shopping with my mom.  She worked out with me.  We all went to the fair.  By the time I made it to Vegas on Friday night everyone was pretty close to winding down for bed, but by Saturday night we were dancing in the streets.  Literally.  My parents have great neighbors.  They borrow each other's hoses and pull trash bins in for each other.  They also do block parties.  I haven't been to a block party since like the 1980's.  It was fantastic.  Everyone set up their little tables with food.  Someone was on the grill doing burgers and hotdogs.  There was music.  Someone set off fireworks.  The drinks were flowing.  People were mingling.  I danced with my parents in the cul de sac and we were having such a great time it was hard to break away, but I had to hit the strip.  It's a must do on every visit.

It was hot.  Like 90 degrees at night and 103 degrees during the day hot, but I tell you what, I love those warm nights.  We grabbed an uber with one goal in mind.  Have one drink on the strip at Fat Bar.  That's it.  And the thing about the strip is that it's so massive it could take you a few hours to accomplish.  We got dropped off near the Bellagio.  The fountain show wasn't happening yet and it was late, so we headed straight to Fat Bar. I don't know why everyone followed me (of all people) off the strip, but I guess I was the ring leader so follow me they did.  Someone (not me) realized that we weren't on the strip.  We rerouted, had our drink, and ubered home.  I think we made it back around 1:00am.  I could be wrong on the time, because I had a little too much sangria at the block party, but it was pretty late.

My sister and I got our nails did.  I haven't had a manicure in like three years.  This is a big deal.  We grabbed lunch at the Habit.  We ate yogurt at Golden Spoon.  We hung out.  I booked by flight for as late as possible Sunday night, but before we knew it my parents were driving me to the airport.  It was a quick trip and I didn't pull into my driveway until about 1:00am.  Work the next day was pretty much hell on earth, but it was worth it.

The 4th of July was my recovery day.  Tuesday.  I regrouped.  Slept.  Did laundry.  There were more last minute things this week.  I'm getting ready to leave the country and I can't find my wallet.  Still calm. The good people at Madewell were kind enough to email me, but I realized my mistake when I went back to work and couldn't find it.  Get the key to the house sitter.  Mail that box to the husband.  Make sure the fence gate is locked.  One last trip to Target.   Is four pairs of jeans too much?  How about 15 tank tops? But I'm calm.  The suitcases are all but sealed shut.  I trust the process.  I trust my list.  The anxious traveler in me seems to have left the building.  There is still plenty of time for a melt down, but I'm hoping it won't come to that.  I'm ready for my next adventure.

 
Bloglovin' // Twitter // Facebook // Instagram