vacation!

It took some time, but I finally remembered my last vacation. Over three years ago, my boyfriend and I went to Kansas City for the weekend. I haven't even taken more than a day off for my birthday (not counting the two sick days I broke down and took and four or five times I came in late or left early when sick because I refused to take a full day) in the past year. Tomorrow, I am taking the day off and going out of town for the weekend. 

It's not much, and I'm incredibly excited and I definitely need it, but I'm worried. I keep thinking of things that need to be done. No one has an appointment. No one has a meeting (technically I do, but I wasn't even aware of it until today and was told it wasn't important). Everyone has petty cash. Everyone has meds. Staff know who's on call. Staff know how to handle a behavior. 

I think it's guilt. My caseload isn't the easiest. I hate to put the responsibility of the hypochondriac and the schizophrenic on one of my coworkers. What if something happens and they're stuck dropping everything to take care of it. That's my typical day, but I don't wish it on anyone else. So it's guilt. Guilt or I'm a workaholic. Yesterday I was in the office until after 8 and I was back this morning right at 8 am. I'm single. I don't have kids. All I do at home is workout, watch syfy shows on Netflix, and cuddle with my cat (and work on my addiction feeding, server connecting, company laptop). Those people, even the girl who follows me into the bathroom so she can show me her latest injury, are my life. 

Is that pathetic? It seems a little pathetic on paper.  It's not so pathetic when you take the human element into account:

I just need to unplug, relax, and have a drink or six. I need a few days of not waiting around for my computer to decide to print a PDF file. 

Everything will be here when I get back and, I'm going to the office with the Keurig on Monday. 

Breathe...forget about what could be in that inter-office envelope I left unopened...enjoy my vacation. 

Got it.