Three days and counting.
Friday morning I’m taking off for Hamburg where I plan on abandoning my family and getting naked (or scantily clothed) and letting people do things to me.
Three days of saunas and massage. Pedicures and skin care. Room Service and wine. King size beds and black-out curtains.
Skin care. I’m actually getting a facial, but can you actually say facial without thinking something naughty? You can? I can’t. Perhaps its the company I keep.
It’s like water sports. I heard a couple of my co-workers use the term and I blew my coffee through my nose. My ears perked up because well, my circle here in Krautland is rather tame. It had been a long time since a couple of guys were so open and vocal about their love of water sports. They talked about the weekend that was filled with nothing but water sports.
Turns out they were talking about wind surfing and the like, sport in/on water. It was kind of a let down.
I have a 10 inch stack of gossip magazines and a trashy novel. We’re each bringing wine. I have my bag almost packed and my navi system programmed. I am ready to go.
Sparky is currently in Hamburg and Max is sick. I took Max to the gym child care and came home 300 calories poorer and one cold richer. I think I’ll keep the calories next time. But if I keep the calories, I have to give up the chocolate. I lose anyway you look at it.
What I’m trying to say (I keep getting distracted) is that I so deserve this weekend and after a successful Webum/Webmu, I’m confident that when I leave the house at 8 am on Friday, it’ll take me approximately 3 minutes “get over it” and enjoy the drive north.
I’m leaving the guys to fend for themselves. In Sparky’s world this translates to “Spend lots of time at Oma’s”. As of 2 pm on Saturday I will not care. I will have a large strong man I affectionately call Gunter beating the crap out of my muscles in a deep tissue massage. If I don’t leave sore, it’s not worth it. That sounds dirty too, doesn’t it?
Don’t get me wrong. I’ll miss the Pooper. There are nights when I miss him so much after I’ve put him to bed I look at his pictures all night. But this next weekend. I think I’ll be just fine. I’ll assuage my misery with a turkey club delivered to my room. Or perhaps the appletinis upon arrival at said hotel will help.
I suppose, like many other hardships in my life, I will survive.