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In lieu of a real vacation, my brain hops a one-way flight to Dayquil Land.
By Hannah Wallace
Well, it was disease—not work, so much—that got in the way of my blogging on Friday. I thought I was being simply precautionary in this time of possible pandemic by calling in sick when I still felt run down even after eight hours of sleep. Then I took a three-hour nap. Then an hour and a half. Then another hour.
So yeah, me and my body haven’t been getting along so well. But CCB, who had some work to do at the Wonderfuls’ Naples store, had already made reservations for Saturday night at La Playa resort (gracias to Hotwire.com), and I didn’t mind lugging my virus down there for a few hours of beachfront luxury. I thought of a thousand plays where the protagonist is sent to the seaside to clear up some respiratory or psychological ailments.
Well, I’m still coughing and crazy, so I don’t think the salt air quite did the trick, but it was a lovely, sun-drenched pseudo-staycation weekend all the same. Sad to say, I may have otherwise spent Saturday inside, curtains drawn, folding laundry and hiding from the heat.
The picture I would have taken from our La Playa room window if I'd actually remembered the camera.
And I’d like to write more about shifting to a vacation mindset in order to appreciate the everyday things, but dear lord in heaven I think I’ve had too much Sudafed. CCB and I are off to Columbia tonight to dine with the ‘rents and some other grownups—just a prelude to the culinary pillaging we’ve been planning around Savor Sarasota in a few weeks. That has something to do with the vacation mindset, too, but unfortunately my brain is currently touring the peaks of the Andes without me. More on this later when I'm not quite so high on cold medicine.