As we do each year, my eight best buds and I spent a week in a beach house doing as little as possible.
This year's house, the Calloway Casa at Emerald Isle, was huge and completely decadent. It was first row, across from the oceanfront, but built on a hill and so tall we had an unobstructed ocean view from the top two decks. The house included a pool, an elevator, a foosball table that never got played with, two refrigerators (one just for beer!), two dishwashers and two washers and driers.
I stated my goal on the first day: "I am not leaving this house for a whole week." I played cards, swam in the pool, read a lot, ate a lot, laughed a lot, watched movies and danced around to "Rehab," a song I hated before this trip, more times than I can count. I didn't go on the beach, I didn't go to the store and I passed on the dinner out night.
It was my absolute perfect vacation.
This morning, we all got up early to load the cars and vacate. (We didn't have to clean bathrooms, vacuum or even put the linens out... all that was included.) We did have to do the dishes and take out trash and recycling.
So being the helpful team player I am, I ventured out to the street with a trashbag in each hand. As I was making my way down the steep, paved driveway in my cheap, rubber flip-flops, congratulating myself on having achieved my goal of not leaving the house all week, I was taking care to walk carefully on the rain-soaked, smooth concrete. I specifically reminded myself of how I busted my butt not too long ago in the same shoes on a wet surface.
Of course, I slipped. Didn't even make it a quarter of the way down. Skinned my foot, chipped my pedicure and landed flat on the ground. I somehow managed to rip one of the bags and the ground was so slippery I couldn't get my footing easily to get back up. So there I lay, flat on the pavement with trash strewn about me. That was about the time the sprinkler came on, pointed right at my face.
As I lay there, with water shooting into my face, I was thinking, "This will be really funny later."
THE LIGHT EPHEMERAL
1 day ago
No comments:
Post a Comment