It Is Good To Be Home~

So this week, I went on vacation. And here is what I learned about myself. I am becoming more of a control freak and more set in my ways every single day. What was once a quirky self-defense method against the insanity that was my life is now a full fledged character flaw that I need to examine and possibly try and change. OR....maybe this is just crazy talk after a long, three day vacation with many, many people - none of whom appreciated my superb organizational skills.

I went camping with my parents, my younger teenage sister and cousin, my brother and his wife and their toddler, Lola, and my two tween cousins. To be fair, they were not all there at exactly the same time...but the end result was that I was in a tent with five other people for three nights in a row. On the same lot as my parents in the camper directly next to the tent. Sharing coolers, food, towels, bug spray, fire, and breathing space with anyone that wanted - including sharing my immediate fresh air with a strange gospel singing family in the next site over that screamed at their children about how they would rip off their faces if they didn't behave. (I don't claim to be sinless and am certainly not casting stones, but there was some serious contradiction in their lifestyle and their harmonies)

Anyone, well any mainly self sufficient adult, would have had some stressful moments in this situation. To a control freak like me, this was like a abnormally nimble group of spider monkeys invaded my house and rearranged everything and by the time I fixed it, they had moved it all again and again. I tried hard to not be crazy and bitchy, but was told repeatedly that I was failing in the attempt. When I woke up Saturday with a headache, I was told in about five seconds flat that it was ok if I went home early and that they could pack up without me. Go home. Feel better. We don't want you to be here and be miserable. The speed at which my normal suck-it-up Polack family was wishing me into my own bed makes me doubt their goodwill and think they were just ready to not have to listen to me reiterate what was allowed in each cooler any more than they already had. (How hard is it to keep condiments, meat, and pop separated? Is it a crime to not want to grab a jar of pickles every time I want a Diet Coke?) They were probably toasting my departure with marshmallows and root beer before I even left the campground. But that is okay. Interestingly enough, by the time I was back on the highway heading for home I felt good enough to open the sunroof, crank up the tunes and sing along to Counting Crows all the way home.