Tuesday, September 15, 2009

Vacation + Stress

My poor old cat cannot stay home alone for four days, now that he gets meds twice a day (not to mention he's not on his best behavior anymore. It's not that he doesn't know where the litter box is -- he's just inconsistent).

Meanwhile, I needs must get away and be irresponsible for four or five days. So I did it. My stomach clenches as I write that. I brought him to his vet's "Cat Condos," where no dogs abide, and nice people will look after him. Away from home. Awful. Vet handed me the tissue box when I started crying -- he made me feel even guiltier than I already did, telling me the cat's mainstays are his humans and his place, and there I was taking both away. My boy stared at me as the vet carried him away from me. He knew something was up. But really, another 'vacation' at home just wasn't going to do it for me.

I drove out to Montauk in two hours. Half an hour less than past times, despite the slower traffic at lane closures on the LIE. I didn't pass people, they passed me, but I must have been going mighty fast. In my old Dodge, I'd have noticed the noise went I went over 35. In the Toyota, I find myself suddenly going 70. And more. I'd love to slow down, but on the LIE that's not an option.

I always assume it'll storm when I'm out in Montauk, so I'm sure to get a room with a view of the ocean. This week's room wasn't my best choice -- I saved a little money, but the view is partially blocked. No matter, it's not pouring. It's gorgeous. This little efficiency will do me just fine.

When I arrived yesterday the pool was extremely inviting. I swam there, I walked along the beach and into the surf, I went back into the pool. Slept like a log last night. Now I'm waiting the appropriate amount of time before I go swimming again, since I've had my oatmeal and I'm quite full. And need to get out to the stores to pick up olive oil (to stir fry the chicken I brought from home which would not have survived another 4-5 days in the fridge) and bread (for the cheese I brought from home, ditto), and stamps and postcards to various children.

There are few things more soothing and beautiful to me than the sound of the surf. Partial view or not, that I can hear just fine.

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