Vacation ruins even the best feministic work ethic.

The sludge to LAX.

Even before the boat shipped out and a Mr. Wookie joined the Navy's latest endeavor in "The Global Force for Good" (or whatever their sad marketing attempt is to sign up for uniforms, boat food, and sketchy port calls), I knew I had a calling for "the Motherland" for my unofficial "halfway" present to my sanity. And after checking the calendar at work for the July 4th closure, I noticed....hmm...July 5th, also closed. Hmm...kayak.com. Boom. PURCHASED!

Oh shucks. I have tickets to Oregon for 4 full days of awesomeness, no sales tax, family, beer and wine, and celebrating the (slightly short, but who cares) "halfway" of this deployment (and their already-been-pushed-back "homecoming" date). And with that, I made lodging arrangements for the little lady feline of the home to kick it at the fellow house of a Junior Officer's family.

So come July 3rd, in the afternoon...I started to panic. Where we live, is a slight drive to LAX. On a great day, you can bust it out in 1:15 on both the Pacific Coast Highway (if you want those beach views) or inland on the 405/101 (if you like views of The Getty, etc.). But on a holiday, I'm fearing the worst. Come 2pm, I start to panic. I start stalking Google for traffic updates on both paths. Eeeeek. Black and red stripes = MEGA TRAFFIC. My palms get sweaty. I reach for a Xanax (damn, no prescription). My stomach starts to eat itself into knots.

I'm at a loss. So I text my boss. :) "I'm getting super anxious about making the drive to LAX, can I skirt out early?" Aaaaaaaaand, the Rooster is Golden.

At 3:30pm, after I had changed my voicemail, out-of-office reply, and forwarded my emails since I was to be out on Monday also, I started my pilgrimage towards the nightmare that is SoCal living. And what I was fearing would take 3 hours, only took 2+ hours. I was able to leisurely park my car, shuttle in, and land myself at a sports bar for a couple hours indulging on vodka tonics and a Greek salad (opa!). There I was...on vacation. And damn, it felt good. Can I go back yet??