Im going on vacation tomorrow. Or at least Im trying to. Nothing fancy. Just a day at the beach on the way to take my daughter back to college. Well lie in the sun, read a page or two of a good book, fall asleep, get sunburned, and then go on to campus. Its a little R&R stop on the treadmill of life.
Ill go, if I can get away.
You see, I requested three days off and my boss said okay. Today was one of the three, even though technically, Im not leaving until tomorrow, if I can get away.
Today was my get ready day...you know, the day when I finish getting all the stuff done I couldnt finish the other days, and the day Im supposed to actually get ready to go on this little trip.
But I just couldnt resist stopping by the office to take care of one little thing, a 10-minute job that I could dash in, knock off and dash out.
I got to the office around 11. I knew it wasnt a good sign when my boss didnt notice I was in jeans and a T-shirt and instead just started giving me stuff to do.
How do you tell your boss youre on vacation, especially since youre standing there apparently ready and able to work? So I didnt say anything, thinking eventually hed remember I wasnt there, or at least I wasnt supposed to be.
Remember that is.
Three hours later he left for an appointment. I waited until the coast was clear and I ducked out, knowing that hed wonder what happened to me. It was a calculated risk. If he didnt remember I was on vacation, Im betting by Monday he wouldnt remember I ducked out of my vacation day early, either.
I got home, commenced to pack, and remembered I had a few things to clean up for the newspaper before it went to print, this column being one of them.
So I logged on, commenced to send an e-mail to my editor only to discover that my outgoing mail server was being ornery. I dont know what an outgoing mail server is, and I dont know what I did to tick it off.
I spent the next two hours playing with it trying to coax it into accepting my outbound mail. But no matter what I tried, it refused to cooperate. It must have been really annoyed, that outbound mail server thing of mine.
I finally resorted to the only option I could think of: I sent my stuff to the editors up north via Yahoo. It seems Yahoo doesnt like Quark, the program in which we write stories. And, consequently, by the time you read this, Im thinking my editors wont be liking me either.
So I did it.
And that leaves me with this column to write. But given that its my day off, I guess Im not inclined to write one. My e-mail is busted and Im long out of time.
Tomorrow Im going on vacation, if I can get away.
And if I do, maybe Ill send you a postcard instead.