Vacation In Blue

Last week, I was on vacation. We spent a glorious week overlooking a scenic beach, flying in helicopters, getting claustrophobia while touring caves, and watching sea animals do tricks that are normally reserved for dogs. Though it was an awesome time, I knew that eventually I would have to return to the real world.

Uhgh! Why does returning from vacation have to be so much work? I was hoping to come home to a wonderful life, a sparkling house, and have 700 messages about how much I was missed. Instead, I was jolted back to reality the second I saw the driveway.

Upon arrival, I immediately noticed that my mailbox was overflowing with circulars from places I never heard of. Thinking quickly, my wife threw a few leaves on the pile and started a bonfire. It was either that or rent a forklift, and my driving abilities had already become suspect.

Once the “bonfire of the vanity ads” was over, I noticed that my grass did not go on vacation. It just sat there and grew and grew while it waited on me. I had to use a machete to chop my way to the front door of the house. At least, I hope this is my house!

My dogs, though they were fed and watered every day, took it upon themselves to do a little vacationing also. As they long ago figured out how to open the gate, I came home to find them playing poker at the kitchen table with a neighboring poodle and 2 basset hounds. I made them all go home and scolded my dogs for drinking beer with their Purina dog chow. Everybody knows white wine goes with Purina.

In the mean time, my refrigerator spawned a new life form. I am not sure if it evolved from leftover chicken or some old casserole, but it is green and orange, fuzzy, and likes to sing show tunes. When I tried to remove it, it snapped at me and growled. The only solution I see is to buy a new refrigerator, and let it have the old one. Those guys from the appliance store are going to love hauling that one away.

After fighting through all of this, unpacking for hours, and getting 10 minutes of sleep, I had to go back to my job. Naturally I assumed this would be an easy day. Wrong again.

My desk had piles of memos on it. My phone had 53 messages. My email box was so full, I had to borrow 2 other computers just to look at it. Heck, I didn’t even have time to balance my checkbook and make my normal 40 personal calls. It was like they expected me to do work or something.

All in all, I would have to relate returning from vacation as the most exhausting thing I ever do. Every year, I swear it will be better and every year it beats me up. You would think I would learn. I now need another vacation just to recover from returning from vacation.

Now, does anyone know how to get the smell of stale cigars and dog biscuits out of the house?