So tomorrow I will embark on one of my very few and far between trips away on my own. I found my suitcase, still under my bed from the last trip, and fully intended to get things packed and ready a few days ago. All that exists today to prove that I even thought about packing is a pile of things that I MAY want to take that happened to be in the laundry I put away yesterday. Sure, I know what I need to take, but where the hell are those things anyway? So as I leave my house at 4am tomorrow to catch my flight at Midway, I will have a suitcase with some things in it, but who the hell knows what those things will be. Maybe the pile o’ laundry that is perched next to it. The trip to Wal-Mart for things forgotten has become sort of a tradition anyway on these little trips and who wants to put a damper on that tradition anyhow? Not I!!
So in honor of my trip to a warmer climate tomorrow I headed over to my favorite little nail salon for a pedicure. Have to make sure the tootsies are flip-flop ready! I decided to take my daughter along because I still have not made good on my mani/pedi reward for her straight A’s on her report card. So we walk in and there are only two people in the salon, Yay!!! This means we can pick our colors and have a seat in our vibrating massage chairs and get this party started, or so you would think, right? Yeah, right. The teenage girls who are getting their “full sets” have apparently just sat down and the owner of the salon, who has a very thick Vietnamese accent, simply wants to know if they want gel or acrylic nails. This exchange of “what?”, “sorry, I do not understand what you are saying” and strange looks back and forth at one another continued for another minute or so until I decided to move things along and become translator extraordinaire. “She is asking if you want gel or acrylic nails” I say, to which these girls reply a very decisive “whatever” and “it doesn’t matter”. Glad we cleared that up. Now every time the owner has a question like “Do you want rounded or square-shaped nails?” I am expected to interpret for these twits. Why can I understand her but they can’t? It’s not like I studied English spoken with Vietnamese accent translation somewhere along the way as a Summer course.
Turns out the owner is alone in the salon today, but she does not tell me that until we already have our pant legs rolled up and feet dipped in the tinted bubbly warm waters and are tucked into the chairs. SO…we wait, and wait and well, to spare you the sordid details, we are out of there a painful 4 hours later, but our toenails and fingernails look fantabulous.
So now I am home and the panic sets in. This happens every time I travel but somehow I forget about it until the evening before these trips when it actually reappears. My heart rate accelerates, I get all out of breath and I feel faint. I then proceed to walk around the house organizing things so that it will be easier for my husband while I am gone. Clothes are clean and I go over a list of who has gym on what days and what they are to wear each day while I am gone. I tell him who likes what for lunch and who needs to bring their musical instruments to school on what days. His eyes have glazed over and I know he has stopped listening, yet I feel compelled to continue with my mundane orders, and I do, for another half hour or so. Bless his heart, he nodded and even went as far as to repeat a few things to give the impression he was paying attention. That’s love.
So tonight I will not sleep. I will probably get to my destination without the things that I need. At least one of my kids will go to school dressed funny or inappropriately and with or without lunch or their violin. I need to accept that this is ok and not the end of the world.
I will just sit back, close my eyes, and remember that tomorrow my toes will look really cute in those flip-flops.