It seems as if I’ve had vacation on the brain these days. If I can’t take a full-on break, I can at least dream about one. And this rainy Labor Day weekend, I’ve been trying to find my spots of blue sky where I can find them.
Sometimes they only exist in my mind.
On the surface, I had a great weekend set up. My childhood friend Ann, who I reconnected with last year, scooped me up and whisked me away to see Dave Matthews Band at the Gorge, a spectacular outdoor venue in Eastern Washington. We spent the night in Moses Lake, hit the breakfast buffet in the lobby, and hightailed it back over the mountains.
DMB was fantastic; the time spent with Annie was even better.
I continued the tour through my past when I got back to Seattle. My high school pal Kevin flew in from Chicago for Bumbershoot, a three-day music and arts extravaganza. The festival would be overwhelming even if I didn’t have a lot of deadlines. But I do. So I’ve been doing my best to find balance, the middle of the road between work and play, the desire to be a good hostess with the need to be an effective small business owner.
The results are mixed. In trying to do both, I’m doing neither very well. But what I am doing is the best I can. I sent Kevin off in the rain to see the Black-Eyed Peas this afternoon; I’ll join him in a couple of hours to check out some acts this evening. The holiday is almost over and I’m going to be as present as possible in whatever activity I’m engaged in, be it writing, editing, or rocking out. At least I'm going to try.
Do you ever experience work guilt when you play on the weekend or holidays?