Every year, my one week that I take off from work has been for the end of July, when we celebrate our anniversary by taking off for a camping trip, just me and the man I married in 1983. Usually, this is a fairly easily accomplished trick. He goes into his workplace and asks for it off. Because he has so much vacation time accrued and because they seem to like him, they always give him the time off.
I go in and ask for the time off, and I beg, plead, whine and carry on until I get the time off - usually because other people are trying to get that one week off at the same time, and I don't usually have paid time off because I'm a retail slug who doesn't get full time.
This year, it seems like The Universe is conspiring against us.
For the first day of the vacation, there are two other women at my workplace who have asked for the same day off. One of them is pushing for taking off for the sixth or seventh time this year, but she has seniority, so I'm not sure how that works out. The other has a family thing going on in another state and should be flying in. And to complicate things, my daughter, who got married in front of a judge in January with the promise of coming back home to do a ceremony for friends and family to attend, is coming to Maine that day to do the little ceremony. It doesn't look hopeful for me getting away to get my vacation week to get my batteries charged for the week of my anniversary, but I'm still waiting for the official word from the boss as to who gets the day off and who has to work the pallets that will be coming in that day to refill our shelves......
And to complicate things, I got word of something that is making me whine even harder this morning.
Those who know me know that I had a wicked crush on Kip Winger when MTV actually played music videos. In fact, there's a line in his video "Can't Get Enough" that inspired Kyle Benton's lady killer smile. The line says "It's alright, it feels good. When I'm in your chains, it's understood." When he looks into the camera with a sexy little smile when saying "It's understood", I melt. Every time.
So I get an email from a company that lets me know when bands are playing in my area. The day before we'd be returning to the house from the vacation camp out, the band Winger is playing at a little bar in downtown Portland. It's a venue that you get to be thisclose to the band. It's the first time Winger has been scheduled to play in Portland in FOREVER! And let's face it. He's got a big streak of gray in his hair (kind of like Rogue from the X-Men comics), and he's got some wrinkle action going on, and, like me, he's got a few extra pounds that we all tend to get as we get older - but he still has that sexy smile........
And I won't be here if all goes well for the plan for my trip to get away from everything (including cell phones, as we go to places where you lose cell service about 20 miles or so from where we intend to camp), so I'll be recharging my interior batteries instead of cramming into a small bar to see one of those musical geniuses I've been following for years.
*pouting and making whiney noises in the back of my throat - which succeeds in making my crazy Shih-Tzu/Pomeranian cross think that there MUST be a psychotic serial killer somewhere outside, so he's barking his little brains out and trying to find a window short enough that his little tiny legs can let him see the culprit*
I wonder if my husband would notice if I tried to convince him that we really got married in mid August instead of the end of July..........*smile*
I go in and ask for the time off, and I beg, plead, whine and carry on until I get the time off - usually because other people are trying to get that one week off at the same time, and I don't usually have paid time off because I'm a retail slug who doesn't get full time.
This year, it seems like The Universe is conspiring against us.
For the first day of the vacation, there are two other women at my workplace who have asked for the same day off. One of them is pushing for taking off for the sixth or seventh time this year, but she has seniority, so I'm not sure how that works out. The other has a family thing going on in another state and should be flying in. And to complicate things, my daughter, who got married in front of a judge in January with the promise of coming back home to do a ceremony for friends and family to attend, is coming to Maine that day to do the little ceremony. It doesn't look hopeful for me getting away to get my vacation week to get my batteries charged for the week of my anniversary, but I'm still waiting for the official word from the boss as to who gets the day off and who has to work the pallets that will be coming in that day to refill our shelves......
And to complicate things, I got word of something that is making me whine even harder this morning.
Those who know me know that I had a wicked crush on Kip Winger when MTV actually played music videos. In fact, there's a line in his video "Can't Get Enough" that inspired Kyle Benton's lady killer smile. The line says "It's alright, it feels good. When I'm in your chains, it's understood." When he looks into the camera with a sexy little smile when saying "It's understood", I melt. Every time.
So I get an email from a company that lets me know when bands are playing in my area. The day before we'd be returning to the house from the vacation camp out, the band Winger is playing at a little bar in downtown Portland. It's a venue that you get to be thisclose to the band. It's the first time Winger has been scheduled to play in Portland in FOREVER! And let's face it. He's got a big streak of gray in his hair (kind of like Rogue from the X-Men comics), and he's got some wrinkle action going on, and, like me, he's got a few extra pounds that we all tend to get as we get older - but he still has that sexy smile........
And I won't be here if all goes well for the plan for my trip to get away from everything (including cell phones, as we go to places where you lose cell service about 20 miles or so from where we intend to camp), so I'll be recharging my interior batteries instead of cramming into a small bar to see one of those musical geniuses I've been following for years.
*pouting and making whiney noises in the back of my throat - which succeeds in making my crazy Shih-Tzu/Pomeranian cross think that there MUST be a psychotic serial killer somewhere outside, so he's barking his little brains out and trying to find a window short enough that his little tiny legs can let him see the culprit*
I wonder if my husband would notice if I tried to convince him that we really got married in mid August instead of the end of July..........*smile*
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