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 |    My random thoughts and reactions to my everyday life. The voices like a forum. |
| PROMPT May 5th If your job gave you a surprise seven day paid break to rest and recuperate, what would you do with those seven days? First of all, let me state how shocked I am. Basically, I am self-employed. The years of working 'for the man', or for anyone else are behind me. Now, I decide what I will do and when I will do it. I'm not saying a pay raise wouldn't be appreciated. I'm not refusing a well-deserved break either. I am surprised though. How did I manage to arrange this without arousing my suspicions? I had no idea I would, or could do this. Woohoo, I'm giving myself an all-expenses paid trip to somewhere other than here for an entire week. No need to inform my boss that I shall be temporarily unavailable. She is now aware. Since this is all in the spirit of a fantasy I presume I may carry on as if Covid-19 restrictions did not exist. I am free to travel without boundaries impeding me. No inconvenient virus will scuttle my plans. I'm loathe to admit it, but I'm tired of binge-watching t.v. secluded in my home. For once I'd like for someone else to decide what I am going to eat and then cook it. A break from making my own bed, washing my own dishes, and taking care of my own laundry would be a dream come true. What I crave is some pampering. What I need is a change of scenery. I will fly first class from Ontario to Alberta. My seven-day getaway will be all too brief and I will not waste a minute more than absolutely necessary in travel. To fully rest and recuperate, I need generous leg room and an attentive steward catering my unlimited beverages. At the airport, I will be whisked away in a chauffeur-driven limousine to The Fairmont Chateau in Lake Louise, nestled in the Canadian Rockies. How wonderful it is not to lug my own bags to my spacious light-filled suite. The fresh flowers perfume the air wafting around me, but I do not linger in their beauty. I have much to experience and the clock is ticking. In the real world I've always wanted to downhill ski. My clumsiness, lack of coordination, and contentious legs have prevented any efforts on my part. All of these issues collude to make even walking fraught with adventures. Here, in the brisk mountain oxygen, I will ski. I will glide down a mountainside of glorious, sparkling powder the breeze I create whipping my hair and snatching my breath. I will whoop with glee as I slide to a stop unscathed and ready for another pass. Not for me the bunny hills. I schuss with the best of the seasoned skiers, my knees oblivious to the moguls. I banter about with ski jargon and marvel that the only 'shush' I'd ever known before was intended to quiet my verbiage. After a full afternoon defying gravity, I'd lounge in a steaming hot tub situated on the balcony next to my room where I'd drink in the magnificent scenery surrounding me. Once I accepted that my muscles had relaxed I'd visit the dining room for a much anticipated gourmet meal. Of course, I'd indulge in a decadent dessert. Any potential calories would've been pre-burned and discarded during my strenuous skiing. Every day I'd repeat all of the above. I might throw in a spa day of luxurious pampering. I just might explore the area bundled atop a horse-drawn sleigh. I could skate 'round and 'round an outdoor rink. Why not? If I'm enjoying myself skiing, I will enjoy skating, too. Ah, seven days of being spoiled and free of knee pain, awkwardness and potential accidents. I'd definitely return rested and fully recuperated. |
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