Besides the obvious, and insane, decision to road trip it, (would you believe we only spent about $200 in gas and tolls all told? It’s all about the Benjamins baby.), the other major contributor to my heart full of joy was the fact that we opted to rent a house, rather than stay in a traditional hotel, motel, Holiday Innnnnnn. (What’s wrong with me today? And all days?)
What on earth is Vacation Stomach? Why, I’m so glad you asked. Ever gone on vacation and had to eat out all the live long day since there’s no mini fridge in your room and you gotta, you know, feed your face? And subsequently the only items you can find are like butter-loaded croissants, gigantic cheeseburgers, and, like, bowls of lard? I hate hate hate being on the road and having to eat every meal out; listen people, sometimes I just want my Lucky Charms and OJ for breakfast and some fruit and yogurt for lunch. I can only eat so many gigantic restaurant meals without feeling nauseated and poor, which ultimately turns me into the grouchiest version of myself which ultimately turns into George having to keep his distance for safety purposes. No bueno. Having a fully functioning kitchen actually resulted in us enjoying the meals out we treated ourselves to even more, because we weren’t like, buying stock in Alka Seltzer at the end of dinner.
In addition to the financial and …. gastric (ew??) reasons for renting a house, George and I both just really liked having a place we could comfortably hang out when we didn’t feel like being out in the blazing tropical sun or the craziness of Duval Street. The condo we rented was in a very small, secluded complex with a little pool and garden area, which was a perfect respite from the madness that is Key West. At the end of the day we could sit on our little porch with a snack and a drink, reading or chatting, and listening to the crickets around us. It felt, if even just for a moment, like we lived there and like that was our porch.
And folks, all that means is I’m one step closer to convincing G to move to the Keys. ( Once I, you know, somehow hit the lotto I don't play and win the one million buckeroos necessary to do so.) Well done, little vacation rental home…you should be proud of yourself.