In forty minutes, I will leave my desk here at the bank and climb into the back of a far-too-small Mitsubishi Eclipse with two of my friends and tear up the highway between Milford and Ft. Lauderdale, FL.
I'll be surrounded by friends on this excursion. I'll be accompanied by two straight friends and a handful of gay men for ten days in the south. We'll drink and dance and talk and laugh. I will not wear coats. I will wear tank tops and short sleeves and open toe shoes. I'll lounge around in the sunshine. I'll bask in the beauty of not being behind a desk. I will apply sunblock. I will swim. I will dance until my feet hurt. I may not post anything here for a few days, but I will write in my journal until my hands cramp. I will smile. Often.
This will be my first vacation ever as a single gal. Although I wasn't brave enough to take a vacation completely on my own, like my friend Tumbleweed, it will mark the first time I have ever dared to travel without the comfort of a boyfriend. And I couldn't be more excited.
I feel like I'm announcing my singlehood, my independence. I feel like a big girl. I feel like I'm about to step into an entirely new atmosphere. I feel good.