I want to go somewhere. Just about anywhere would be OK with me.
I feel like I got cheated out of my trip to San Francisco in January. That was the mother-daughter bonding trip that was cancelled when I broke my hip.
We missed out on a March trip to Peru with our good friends and neighbors. I just got back from taking my friend KC and her husband to the airport so they can go play in Sante Fe.
Whereas my husband seems totally content to repeat his daily routine every day, I’m getting cabin fever. I find it’s nice to have a trip to look forward to every few months. And right now I have nothing planned for as long as I can see out on the horizon.
Maybe when I get distracted by the beauty of a Washington spring, I will feel more content to stay home. But for now, every jet plane going overhead beckons me to fly away.