So, practice your talking points while I fess up: Guys, I booked a vacation that was definitely not in the budget. Oops.
This is not something I normally do at all. I mean, I’m such a tightwad that I suffer major buyer’s remorse if I purchase a $.50 soft pretzel without adequately weighing the financial fallout. I account for every little penny—and then some.
So how did I weave so dramatically off course? I BLAME KEY WEST! KEY WEST MADE ME DO IT! I swear I Google the place at least three times a week (okay, 30) and it’s been a solid coupla years since we’ve been, and I just couldn’t take it anymore. I had Conch Withdrawal. It’s a real thing. Web MD it.
Yeah, basically I have no excuse. But while we didn’t have the money specifically in the vacation budget, we did have it in the rainy day fund so it’s not like that bad, right? I think somehow the phrase “robbing Peter to pay Paul” might work in this scenario, but I’m not totally sure, so I’ll kinda toss it out there all noncommittal like and then just move on, sloooooowly…..towards Key West.
So I could try to give you all kinds of excuses and jusifications, but the fact of the matter is that we just needed some sunsets, some palm trees, some Rum Runners, and some general weirdness, and we needed it now. And George was totally in on the scheme, so really what choice did I have?
Oh wait, while I have you I should tell that we also may or may not be driving down (20 hours, baby!) so we can haul the dog with us. WORLD’S BEST-SLASH-WORST ROADTRIP coming up!
Can we still be friends?