Post-Coastal

I have spent my weekend at the coast, watching the ocean from my tiny suite while savoring scotch and Newman-O’s. The fates gifted us with fine, albeit cold, weather and we enjoyed walks on the beach and mediocre dining. The company was good, the suite well heated, and the bath had jets. The arithmetic leads me to believe that it was the best of possible outcomes.

My mother-in-law came down on Thursday night, and so we were able to spend Friday morning in an orgy of mall shopping, even to the point of switching malls mid-spree like a portly politician with a pair of cheap hustlers. Of course our hustlers were actually the sale racks at already low priced clothing stores, but all four of us came away with a fine selection of new clothes and foolish grins

Well sated from our morning’s debauchery, we headed west to the ocean. Our suite was in a tiny seaside hotel. We had a door practically leading to the beach. Inside it as classic vacation rental chic: metal cabinets, Ikea glasswear and baseboard heaters. We walked a few blocks and acquired our necessary provisions and went out again for hot greasy food.

Saturday, we walked the beach. The ocean was cold and turbulent, but there was no rain and the November beaches are fairly empty. The boy ran and explored and loved being near the ocean and drawing in the sand. We drove down the coast and saw a different beach and tide pools and desperate, mediocre surfers.

Such a weekend of sand and scotch. I stayed up too late, read a book, took a bubble bath with my son, and ate my weight in greasy food. Not a bad way to get away from the usual. Tomorrow I’ll be out for a run and the day after that I will be back at my desk.

A few days outside my usual routine does wonders for illuminating the reasons behind the life I choose. I’m not particularly happy with work and money right now, but the balance of my life is where I happy and the future can easily hold my goals. Now all I have to do is get back to work and make it happen.