My coworker announced, ” We never make reservations! What if we don’t make it that far?”
Far- meaning a set destination. Inside, though I am cool on the exterior, I am a whirlpool of emotion. What a perplexing reality, to … not… make…. plans?
I’m the gal that makes reservations months in advance when traveling. I have limited time and resources. I plan. I budget. I build a list of restaurants, things to do, places to see, and even backup ideas. The mental anticipation is near refreshing as the trip itself.
“We’ve never had a problem getting a room, “she further explains.
Is she bragging? Or feeling defensive at my silence? Maybe my inner turmoil is showing. Granted, there is a bounty of hotels, motels, vacation rentals, available these days. I reason. And if you’re not picky about price or style, I bet you could get a room.
The idea of spontaneously taking a trip anywhere is romantic, maybe, terrifying. I’ve probably never done it.
I can be a free- spirit and be a super planner, right? Does planning a trip make me practical, boring, prepared, a control freak? I’ve always considered myself a laid back person, que sera sera, even amidst a molten mess of anxiety lava at times.
This week, I’m making more than one list. I have a shopping list, a packing list, and a rough itinerary. Could I somehow not make reservations, lists, or reference travel websites? Where is the line of reason? Could I really not plan a trip? And just go? Without the aid of technology? Sounds dangerous. Bonkers. Great. Stupid. Fun.