Hell Month, Pt. IV - Vacations and Crashes Back To Reality

I wish I could say we were talking about improving society. I wish I could say that.
(from left: Stacy, Arden, Matt, myself and Jennifer)

I have done my share of complaining this month. Mercifully, the month is winding down. This past weekend was the planned break where I celebrated my MCSE Security+ status with a handful of days away from computers and OEMs. Of course, that plan was kibosh-ed. So, before I ran away, I had to rack up a ton more hours at work before I could vacation at a house that was a non-refundable purchase.

To rid myself of the curmudgeon mindset, the sand and the sun of Port A was just the ticket. And misery loves company. The Lovely coordinated with all of her old high school buddies to make this vacation happen. Everything went off without a hitch. Everyone had a great time and no one lost a finger or a flip-flop in the process.

However, my only bitch with vacations is that you need to unwind from the unwinding. Example: Michael and Jen drove from Fort Worth with their three kiddos to make this happen. Matt met Stacy at the airport with delays from planes with mechanical issues trying to connect from Corpus to Port A. Tash and Bry rolled in from Shreveport with Bry having to ace a phone interview while on this trip. Cliff and Arden trucked it from San Antonio with a metric ton of fishing gear in tow (including a bay kayak). How can anyone consider all this work a vacation? Sure, it beats staring at spreadsheets and nodding off in front of dual monitors, but that is a massive amount of work to try to relax.

The only Hell from this section of Hell Month was realizing that 1) paradise is thirty minutes away on Park Road 22 and B) all this work to rest is still work. Clarity is painful sometimes.

With all this charging at full tilt for relaxation, reality seaped in on the last day - my grandmother, who has been fighting the good fight since two Thursdays ago, passed away in the early morning hours of Sunday. She had been sick for a while. Her good days were intersparsed with her bad days. The relief is that she doesn't have to fight anymore.

It's never as bad as it seems, whether the feeling of inequity looms and challenges come in rapid succession and delights come with struggle and strife. The whole concept of Hell Month was to make light of the humdrum and lament that comes with a busy month. But these last 24 hours have put it in it's perspective. Ironically, I close out Hell Month on Tuesday going to my grandmother's rosary.

Lessons Learned, my three things.
1) No matter how well you sunblock performed the previous day, two straight days in the sun will burn you. Reapply all you want, you skin is cooking is the slowest convection oven, ever.
2) It is very difficult to grow a fan base when you blow a 2-nil lead in the first half.
3) Don't be loud at Lisabella's. Your food will be two hours late and uppity white women will sick the head chef on your table to tell you to pipe down. In retrospect, we should have walked.

So, no more of the on-and-on about the woe-is-me after 30 June. Life if a challenge as much as it is a gift. And it only took me 29 days to figure that one out. On to sharper topics next week. Until then, talk later.