Calgon, take me away!

So, you may have heard this story about this Pennsylvania mom who went to the grocery store and didn't come back. For two weeks. She was found yesterday.

No, nothing horrible happened to her. She's safe and sound. Right as rain. Hungover maybe?

It seems she just decided "she needed to get away." Her life got to be too much and she decided she needed a little vacation. So, she left the husband, left the house, the kids, the car, the dog (if she has one) and the mother-in-law (maybe) and took her little ol' self to Florida. Alone. Without telling anybody where she was going or when she'd be back. Or if.


She is my hero. Really.

Imagine that.

No, really. Imagine that. 

I am.

I can so picture myself walking out and leaving behind my house with the bad plumbing and the broken heater, my snarky tween who ignores me every chance she gets, my puppy who refuses to pee outside, the neurotic poodle who ate my bowl of tuna yesterday, my mother-in-law who threw a bonafide temper tantrum this morning because she can't have salt with her grits, her helper who is getting more and more exasperated by the moment, my mother who is selling her personal belongings one by one so she can buy an iPad with  built-in WiFi. My resume. And even my cranky husband. He'll be leaving me in a few weeks. A lot. Baseball season is right around the corner.

Come on. We all dream about it, right? Fantasize a little? A lot?

I wonder what made her snap. The thought of having to go home and put away all those groceries? Having to come up with a dinner menu, slave over a hot stove and serve it up, only to have her teenaged daughter ask, "Can I fix macaroni and cheese?"

I wonder if she has her mother-in-law living with her too.

Just imagine... walking out the door. Right now.

 OK. Wait I have to go pack a bag first. Need the contacts. And the glasses for when I need to take the contacts out. And need makeup because, can't go off on some tropical vacation without a little makeup. And need some makeup removers because, can't wear the same makeup for two weeks. And need deodorant, because can't go to the beach without it. And need a bathing suit because, well, I sure as hell ain't going to a nude beach. And some clean underwear because I might get into an accident. And I need my Kindle. And the charger. And the cell phone charger.

OK. Now I'm ready.

Now I've got to stop for gas. .....And some snacks, because it's a four hour drive to the beach from here. Something sweet. Something salty. Something to wash it down with.

Oh! Vodka! Can't leave without the Vodka! And the blue raspberry mixer. And the Mojito stuff I haven't tried yet.

OK. Now I'm really ready!

I'm getting in the car, driving to Florida, plopping myself on a beach somewhere, drinking lots of vodka with blue stuff in it, flirting outrageously with some hairless young bartender until I convince him he should rub my feet, sleeping until noon, staying up until dawn.
Alone. All by myself. No one talking to me. No one needing me. No one snoring next to me or hogging half the bed. No one calling me. No one arguing with me. No one knowing better than me. No tissues in the laundry or chewed up on the floor. No booster seat on the toilet. No goddam beeper.

OK. I'm going. Right. Now.

Aw who am I kidding? The farthest I'll probably get is Walmart. That's where I went the one time my husband and I had a fight. I walked out, slammed the door, peeled out of the driveway like a teenager and drove like a bat out of hell. The problem was, I had no where to go. So I went to Walmart for an hour or so. And didn't answer my phone the entire time.

Take that, world.

I don't think they knew I was even gone.