One of the best things about working where I do is the fact that every December, I get an extended paid break. Essentially, it's a 4th week of vacation every year. For 2010-2011, our offices closed at 5pm on Dec 24, and reopened at 8am on Jan 4. Ten glorious days away from the office. Plenty of time to start my new year off the way it needs to start. Right? RIGHT?
Vacation Day 1 - it SNOWS! Wow, second good snow in the same calendar year. This is definitely something I could get used to.
Vacation Day 2 - as the sky continues to drop cold, white flakes, the pump in my well decides that it wants to take a vacation, as well. A permanent one. My brothers spend the ENTIRE day working on it. My house has water again sometime after 4pm.
Vacation Day 3 - brave a trip into Athens. The drive is beautiful. Snow is still everywhere, but roads are clear. Spend a fun afternoon with friends, watching "Secretariat." Later on, spend $50 at Beef O'Brady's, just chatting with my little brother and watching the Falcons kick butt.
Vacation Day 4 - the "not feeling quite right" feeling that was nagging me the day before has turned into a cold.
Vacation Day 5 - headache, sniffles, sneezes, and I'm very tired.
Vacation Day 6 - I wake up with a sore throat to add to the growing list of ailments. I begin coughing up the first lung. I think it's the left one.
Vacation Day 7 - it's New Year's Eve. The entire family is coming over. Way too much stuff to do. I try to sleep late, but I can't breathe, so I just get up. Take my sis and nephew into Athens for errands. Five hours later, we've completed trips to the Barn (highlight of the day. I bought tequila), Kroger (other highlight of the day. I had sushi and Starbucks. It's a winning combination), the bank, Panera Bread Co., Publix, Gamestop and Radio Shack. My sister makes a stop at Chick-Fil-A, where I soon learn that piping hot chicken strips and BBQ sauce are not medicine for a sore throat. We get home just after the UGA game starts, so I prop myself in front of the TV, and try not to die. By the time dinner is served, I'm couging up my right lung. My head is the size of one of those baloons from the Macy's parade. My throat is are roaring blaze, but it's New Year's Eve, and that means that my favorite nachos are on the menu. I'm living on sweet tea, hot tea, cough drops, and a box of Puffs w/Vicks. I stay up watching football and Dick Clark's Rockin' Eve until about 1:30am. Then I crash.
Vacation Day 8 - I wake up early, since the traditional New Year's Day breakfast is Panera bagels, egg casserole, and mimosas. This year, we also had Hammers (tequila and OJ) for breakfast. The OJ in the Hammers and mimosas hurts my throat, but it's New Year's. And it's alcohol. Halfway through the Rose Parade, I realize that I had not yet completed coughing up my lungs, so I work on the task some more. Once the football games start, I relax in the recliner with a cat or two, and try to doze during the various halftimes. More people come over, and this time, I stay up until 1:30am playing Boggle and Scattergories. I can't sleep. I get about 3 hours non-rest.
Vacation Day 9 - I spend the entire day in the recliner, surrounded by my medicinal arsenal: peppermints (I've had so many cough drops, I'm developing ulcers in my mouth), mint tea (hot), sweet tea (cold), Puffs, or cat or three this time, and a stack of unread books to help pass the miserable hours. I get about another 3 hours of non-rest.
Vacation Day 10 - repeat of Day 9, except that I finally fall asleep in the middle of the day. Friends promptly come over and wake me up to show me that they've found yet another litter of kittens (this is another story for another time, but just know that I have a slut cat) out by my shed. I am unable to go back to sleep.
Vacation Day 11 - oh, wait. This isn't a vacation day. I'm back at work. I couldn't tell you what happened at the office if my life depended on it. Thank God, after a long day, I go home and crash, finally sleeping. I'm starting to breath again.
The remainder of the work week went by slowly, and consisted of my working from 8am-5pm, coming home, and crawling under the covers. By Friday, I was starting to feel human again, and looking forward to a weekend of nothing but blissful rest.
On Sunday, it snowed. The state practically shut down, and the University smartly kept its offices closed. I didn't have to go back to work until Friday. Call it a miracle. Call it crazy GA weather. I don't really care. I finally got to enjoy some days off of work!