1. Jamie #2
Marley predictably moved on. “And since when do you do wilderness? You’re more crisply ironed shirts and time-blocked schedules. Not really the flannel and hot dogs type.” She had me there. Of course, she did.
“I can still schedule my days if I want, and yes, you know me so well, but I’m turning over a new leaf. What do you think this is for?” I held up a dorky-looking floppy fishing hat that was covered in a mesh sort of netting.
Marley just shrugged at me, and I packed it up with the other maybe-I’ll-need-these items.
I held up a compass next. “Think I’ll need this?”
“How Man vs. Wild is this trip anyway?”
I gulped, imagining an episode of Naked and Afraid . “I have no idea.”
The next morning, I woke up earlier than usual with an anxiousness I hadn’t felt since the moment I finished taking the bar exam. Stretched out after my morning workout and fueled by an expired protein bar, I checked emails over coffee.
My foot tapped as I waited for Ren to show up. He’d always been the life of the party since I’d known him. His high energy levels meant he never stopped moving. He reminded me of how I was in high school, though I’d never tell him that.
It felt like I hadn’t really stopped and just enjoyed anything in forever.
After college, it was directly into law school.
After graduating with top marks, I had several options and chose Clint and Margaret’s corporate practice because theirs was one of the most reputable firms in Seattle.
After years of proving myself, I was ready to take the next step in my career.
Speaking of time, Ren was actually punctual for once. “Are you ready for your worst nightmare?” he asked through the intercom. I almost didn’t buzz him in. He could stand in my condo lobby forever for all I cared. “I have donuts.”
Dammit. I let him up. Well, at least he could help me cart the totes down.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Ren’s gaze bounced from tote to tote, then he pulled the checklist from my hand. “What’s all this?”
“Brittney loaned us her outdoor stove. She insisted on the tie-downs because you can’t rely on the weather.
One thing led to another. And oh! Here’s the rain fly.
” I was proud of myself for knowing some of the equipment our law clerk lent me.
She had hiked the Pacific Crest Trail last year and had plenty of advice for our trip.
“No, no, no, none of that. They’ll have everything we’ll need.” He took the rain fly out of my hands and jammed it into an already full tote of outdoorsy supplies.
“How is that possible?”
“I take my duty as your paralegal very seriously, but this week, I’m taking on an even more challenging task.
My duties as your best friend include making sure you actually cut loose and try to have fun—you know, that thing you literally never do?
It’s going to be quite the undertaking, but I can be resourceful. ”
“And your point is?” I asked, already knowing and dreading the answer. Like Marley said last night, he’d argue that I never take time for myself. That I never put myself first or stop to live my own life.
It was somewhat true. I enjoyed what I did, and my clients needed me. The firm needed me. It was important to be dedicated, to give parts of myself with every case. How else would I achieve my goals?
Ren tapped my briefcase with his toe, and it fell over. “You’re not taking your laptop.”
“What? No.” I shook my head, bending over to scoop said laptop up and clutch it like Gollum with the One Ring. Precious thing that I’d be lost without, and yet it drained my will to live simultaneously, depending on the day.
“We’ll have our phones, and you can check your email to see if there’s a dire situation. But I’ll reiterate, you need to cut the cord.” He pried the laptop away, gentle yet firm. “Disconnect, be present, it’s all the rage.”
I’d still have my phone. I’d be able to check emails. The thought soothed me.
“And I should probably tell you.” He used a gentle tone to soften the blow of whatever bad news he might finish that sentence with. “We’re not just going for the weekend.” His words were rushed under his breath as he pulled out the handle of my suitcase.
“Hey, get back here.” I followed him to the car. “What do you mean, we’re not staying for just the weekend?”
He didn’t meet my eyes. “We’re staying a week.”
“No, we’re not,” I insisted. “We can’t do that. We agreed on a long weekend. Long. As in half day Friday and back on Sunday.”
“That’s called a weekend.” His tone was patronizing. “I’ve been on the waitlist for this place forever and someone dropped! I cleared your schedule, and you need this. We need this.”
“I only bought one sun shirt.”
“As if your collection of sun shirts has ever stopped you before,” he said sarcastically. We both strode back inside.
“Wait up while I pack some more clothes, at least.” I didn’t have it in my heart to argue with Ren, and after I talked with Marley last night, his words hit home.
People took weeklong vacations all the time.
Just because I hadn’t didn’t mean I couldn’t.
And with all the changes at work coming up, I didn’t need to obsess myself off a cliff.
I’d find out and return to work with a new perspective, ready to tackle a new project and more responsibility.
It was time to do it. Time to take a vacation.