Here’s the part where I tell you about the vacation I just got back from. It’s not meant to make you jealz, but if it does, please don’t be. Ok, that’s all of that.
After a slightly miserable Friday, I decided to put off packing until Saturday morning, the day we were going to leave. While I had plenty of time, because we weren’t slated to leave until around 9:00, I still felt rushed. Packing makes me feel rushed, no matter when I do it.
So Saturday morning, I got up early to feed Mitten Head and prep for the day ahead. Sean had stayed up late the night before beating the “next level” on his video game. Isn’t there always just one more level?
I finally got Sean to wake up around 7:00 (though he could have slept for years, according to him) and I finished packing. A mandatory trip to Target was required to get a recently-clearanced beach bag and then we were really off.
We packed an apple and a few LaraBars as snacks and decided we’d have plenty of time to stop for a real sit-down lunch instead of a nasty fast food lunch. We passed a Ruby Tuesday at about 10:30 A.M., too early for lunch, but figured we’d come across another place to eat between Macon and Savannah.
Wrongo to the max!
There is absolutely NOTHING between Macon and Savannah, Georgia. Barely even a gas station. Sean started to get worried, when a little Podunk gas station finally came upon the horizon. We filled up next to a caravan of 15-passenger vans with Harley Davidson stickers on them. This was around 11:00 and lunch was still not a priority.
Until it was 12:00, and 12:30, and then 1:00 and we couldn’t find anywhere to eat. I refused to eat at Smack Donald’s or the like, and that put us at about 1:30 with a 5:00 A.M. breakfast, a LaraBar and half an apple in each of our stomachs. Needless to say it was a miracle we were nice to each other.
When we finally passed the traffic on the two-lane bridge into Tybee, we looked for any place familiar to eat. Unfortunately, by that time my protests against fast-food had withered because my blood sugar was so freaking low, and I settled for Arby’s.
Sean and I parked somewhere illegally (you have to pay to breathe on this island) and shamelessly hooved things that shall not be mentioned. Meanwhile, I kept lamenting about how much of a hypocrite I was for preaching local, sustainable, non-processed foods while I scarfed down a chocolate turnover (DO NOT EVER GET THIS, your stomach will avenge its horror later… you’ve been warned).
Please forgive me, people of the blog world, for going against my own preachings in a moment of gastrointestinal weakness.
TO BE CONTINUED…