everyone once in a while, i need to go away.
away from the laundry that didn’t get folded; the presents that haven’t been wrapped; the messy guest room that isn’t ready for a spider to stay the night, let alone actual human guests.
i feel like i’m the absolutely only person in the world who relaxes better when i’m away from home. but i’m sure most of us are that way. my anniversary falls at a crazy time of year: the 13th of december, when there’s less than two weeks til Christmas. so basically, it's a crazy time of year to give up a weekend (what about the laundry? and the wrapping? and the spider?!). drew and i have spent most of our married life living life paycheck to paycheck, with one of us in school. for the past four years, we’d celebrate by dressing to the nines and going to a snazzy restaurant. but this year, with two steady incomes and no one in school (yay!), we drove 2.5 hours east to wrightsville beach. it was a short trip--only forty-eight hours long--but it was perfect.
our balcony overlooked the marsh. pastel colored beach houses dotted everything that wasn’t water or waving beach grass. our suite boasted a whirlpool tub, a television that swiveled (this meant prime viewing from the bed AND the tub!). friday night, we ordered room service (a luxury i’ve only enjoyed once before), popped the champagne, and caught up on our lives. words tumbled out as i hurried to tell him everything--from the important to the mundane. he shared details about work. we talked about our holiday plans, marveled at the past five years, and shared dreams about the future. we satisfied our inner foodies, first, with a southern-style breakfast at a local dive; later, over a flight of beer and cheddar ale soup at Front Street Brewery. our fancy pants dinner consisted of a well-timed groupon and the unique, delicious thing that is fondue.
it was a great weekend.