The Future #3

As with most things I am in charge of, I have already changed my mind about the recently posted itinerary. Luckily, Jeff just nods and gives the thumbs up when I announce "our plan" because he knows I will revise it hundreds of times before it is truly finalized. So, after abusing my laminated map with a really terrible smelling erasable red pen that led to a horrible headache, which then led to me making a huge cocktail with rye to counteract the headache, I realized that I had approached the world domination thing all wrong. Tip: Rye brings clarity.

I discovered that I needed to reverse my domination route! The main consideration occurred to me when I was trying to solve the issue of logical, geographical organization: we need to chase the sun, big-time. Could we possibly manage to arrange this trip so that we live in perpetual summer for ten months? The short answer is absolutely.

Now, it took going through nearly fourteen travel books, but I have decided that our trip will look like this (and it is officially called "Wednesday, March 17's Trip" to avoid being bound by it):

1. Canada - USA

2. Australia - New Zealand

3. South Africa - Egypt - Morocco

4. Spain - France - Italy

5. Greece - Turkey

6. USA - Canada

In my mind, this is the perfect route. And while I am awake during daylight hours, I am beyond enthusiastic about it. However, I am already experiencing middle-of-the-night-anxiety. For two nights in a row, I have found myself wide awake, considering everything that could possibly go wrong.

The first fretful thought is always about leaving behind my choco-lab, Ruthie. I really love this dog. It is extremely unhealthy, but as a stay-at-home mother with no stay-at-home children, Ruthie has become the center of my universe. I have actually created our departure scene in my mind where I am kneeling down, looking her sincerely in the eye and trying to explain that our absence does not mean we don't care about her. Ruthie never makes eye contact with me and Jeff has to drag me, inconsolably, to the RV where our children are watching in obvious embarrassment.

The second fretful thought is mainly about African airline safety standards. And possibly Greek ones, too. Dying in a plane crash is good fodder for night terrors for sure, but then I also add the delicious topper, which is being torn apart by sharks after I manage to survive the crash into the ocean. One saving grace that I often internally appeal to is that I am aware that you should punch a shark in the eyes really hard if it is attacking you (I've done research, ok?), but this still does not quell my worries entirely.

The third fretful scenario is around catching horrible illnesses. Our recent trip to Mexico resulted in a bout of food-poisoning that I truly thought was going to kill me. In fact, I repeatedly begged Jeff to get a giant rock and hit me on the head with it so I could die to escape the vomiting. Because of the clear case of PTSD that I have developed because of this poisoning, I now find myself awake at night trying to calculate how many peanut-butter and honey sandwiches I would have to pack to survive ten months without eating any bought food.

Aside from these overwrought thoughts that dissipate once the sun is up, I am thrilled that we are going to do this.