And with that overdue admission to Darcy, I said aloud what everyone in my presence has known for a year.
If you are a small-business owner, you understand. It is not like other jobs. There is no one else on whom to slough work. If you don't do it, mortgages don't get paid, only one of them your own. The business runs you. I haven't had a planned day off since 2010. I cannot remember the last day that was completely untouched by work. And sliiiiiiight cracks in my psyche are starting to show.
"I double-dog dare you to fire me, motherfucker!" I said to the client.
"I double-dog dare you to quit, motherfucker!" I said to the staffer.
So yeah, I'm looking at beach vacations. I have something very specific in mind. Just me, on a shaded lounge chair, on a hot beach, my only human interaction with Fau, an agreeable, heavy-set beach waiter who barely speaks English and who endlessly brings me booze and club sandwiches. I don't want fucking volleyball, or fucking snorkeling, or fucking couples massages, or fucking hiking. Beach. Fau. Club sandwiches. That is all.
Anyone know if this actually exists?