I Can Be a Spoiled, Privileged Brat

This picture isn’t me, but a very reasonable proxy at times

My wife and I celebrate 30 years of marriage next month— quite a feat for her. She deserves to be honored and celebrated for the occasion, and I assume from the reaction I received from taking her out for barbecue on our 25th anniversary, that I need to aim a little higher this time.

So, I scoured the internet for tropical destination spots and after several hours of searching, thick brain goo oozed out of my ears.

Hotel? Cottage? Condo? Little house? Loft?

VRBO? Airbnb? Evolve? Priceline? Booking.com?

Why are the fees so high?

This island? That beach? Near a river might be nice. Or hey this quaint little town looks cool!

Sometime after midnight, I threw my laptop out of the window in frustration and moaned to my wife how hard this process is.

Then it hit me.

No, not that I’m a martyr and need everyone’s sympathy. I already knew that one.

It hit me that I’m a spoiled, privileged, ungrateful brat.

How many people in the grand ol’ US of A and the rest of the world struggle with the basic needs of survival? A vacation would be a day in which they didn’t have to worry about their next meal, where to sleep, or being a victim of genocide in a country run by a tyrannical dictator.

My most dire concern of the day was who gets to ring up my credit card for a 5 day late Winter excursion?

Tough life.

I woke this morning with a fresh mind, a grateful spirit, and a renewed determination to do my part to make this world a better place.

I also found a perfect little island spot from a very reasonable Airbnb host. It should go over with my wife much better than Jim ‘N Nick’s Bar-B-Q.

More details to follow…

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