I really need a vacation.

Not one of those vacations where you spend the whole time running around trying to see everything, doing everything, spending money on everything, and coming home needing another vacation. I mean a real vacation. The kind where you don’t have to be anywhere. No schedule. No bullshit. No constantly looking at the clock.

I haven’t had one of those in a long time.

I’m always running. Always doing something. Work. Errands. Chores. Life. Repeat. Apparently humans decided the proper way to spend their limited time on this planet was to stay busy until they’re too tired to remember why they were busy in the first place.

I need to stop.

I need a few days where nothing is expected of me. Wake up when I wake up. Sit around. Go somewhere if I feel like it. Don’t go anywhere if I don’t. Eat something stupid. Watch something stupid. Maybe take a drive. Maybe do absolutely nothing. Doing nothing is severely underrated.

But naturally, I have to wait until September.

September.

It’s sitting there on the calendar like some kind of promised land. Every day between now and then is just another step toward finally shutting the engine off for a little while.

So until September, I keep running.

But when that vacation finally gets here, I’m not trying to accomplish a damn thing.

I’m going to relax.

Because apparently that now requires advance planning.