When I get back from vacation two weeks from today, will my absence have made a difference? I keep thinking I can't leave my job, and I can't leave my house and yard. Things will fall apart. I'll get so far behind I can't catch up. My roses will die and the high weeds will take over. But I wonder.

What if I've forgotten something? What if somebody needs something that only I can give them (like an emergency deposit to cover an overdrawn check in the Boss's personal account)? What if the hummingbirds suck the feeder dry? What if snails take over the garden and spiders take over the house? What if I haven't accounted for every possible contingency?

More to the point, what if the Boss discovers he can get along without me? What if he realizes he likes not having me pass on phone calls from irate unpaid suppliers to him? If things go too well while I'm gone, I might become expendable. Or really, it might become obvious that I'm expendable. I might be shown to be as expendable as I fear I am. What if I'm expendable and somebody finds out?

What if the Giants go on an eight-game winning streak without me to yell instructions and advice at them through the TV screen?

But I digress.

It's not really a digression if I have no point to make in the first place, though.

Nobody else makes a big obsessive deal out of being gone a few days, right? I'm even worried about how many readers I'll lose (as if that matters). Sometimes I think the only thing I have going for me, journal-wise, is that I never miss a day. If I ever did miss a day, no one would come back. Then I'd be writing to myself again the way I did all those years in my paper journal.

I'm leaving just at the time when I'm getting a good feeling about the wilderness that is my back yard. I've been ripping through the high grass the last three days, and I've created a clearing around the house. It's not pretty, but it's a start. Now I expect to drive up the lane two weeks from today and find the weeds so high and thick that all I can see is the pointed roof sticking up out of the amber waves.

This is delightful, isn't it? Sharing my delusional fixations with my friends (that's most of you) and a few lost strangers who've wandered in looking for things like "how to bunt," and "Jennifer Lopez at the Grammys," and "tickling" (what is it with the tickling, already?). (That should be good for a few more search engine hits... Hi, how's it going? tickling tickling tickling)

Where was I? Putting this all down in black and white (or whatever) demystifies it enough that I can laugh a little, relax a little. I spent most of today working, since I had to stay home and wait for a phone call (which never came). I'm as caught up as I can be, but I still have this week's and next week's work (payroll and such) to take care of before I can get away.

Do you think I need a vacation?

If I had a point, it would be that this journal will be closed for maintenance from Friday, July 13, until Sunday, July 22. I'm taking pen and paper to the lake, but no computer. The entries for those days will be filled in after I get back. This wouldn't be a bad time to subscribe to the notify list, if you care to be informed when these entries are posted.

This assumes, of course, that I do actually make it out the door Thursday night as planned... and that I come back.