I used to hate going on holiday. I think I read somewhere that it takes 3 or 4 days for you to unwind and actually get into your break. In my personal case I always preferred to be back at work in case I was missing something and never liked being away. The fact is if you are a miserable git at home, being transported to the other side of the world isn't going to change things and the chances are you'll still be a miserable git, just with a sun tan.
Not even coming off nights before I fly out this year is stressing me. Yep I'm getting grief at work for having loads of days owing me but try and get the time off and it's turned down. I think I've finally cracked the holiday secret though. No driving alongside Mrs Stressed in the navigator role filling me with confidence with her "I think it's the next on the right". Thank God for Sat Nav on our Florida adventure a few year's back, without it I'm convinced my marriage would have been over.
Instead I will spend two weeks doing nothing, zilch, zero activity, nistch. My usual holiday read of the codes of practice is staying on the kitchen table and I will be relaxing with all my children in my own little paradise. I'm actually looking forward to it, probably our last family holiday together. Hopefully there will be a limited number of Brits on Tour in my hotel and we can enjoy the continental approach of sensible alcohol consumption. I will also be defending my title as "Mister Hotel" competing against the French, Germans and Russians in making a twat of myself. We do it so much better than they do !!
The MP3 is loaded with mellow sounds and my meditation relaxation tapes, just in case I need them. Club Tropicana here I come !!!!!!!!! Mrs Stressed can be my Shirley for 2 weeks.
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