Just like that, the email came in. Before I posted anything about my ugly truth, before I opened up and vented about all the shit thrown my way, before I debated whether to bang my head against the wall until I was unconscious, I received the following from a girlfriend in New York.
“Can you get to Miami for a quick girls trip next weekend? Hotel (Ritz) is paid for … I need some sun and some cocktails.”
An impromptu getaway to somewhere fabulous? (meaning, somewhere that isn’t here). Um, yes???
I haven’t seen this friend in years. She is not on Facebook (gasp!) so our communications have been sporadic at best. We’ve experienced cross-country moves, marriages, babies, ending of marriages, new jobs, new homes, and everything in between. And now this weekend we will be holed up at the Ritz Carlton in Miami for sun, fun, cocktails, spa treatments, amazing food and friendship.
Hotel, check. Airfare, thank you USAirways miles! Clients, paid up. The light is green. I am going. It may only be a 48-hour trip, but I have no doubt the benefits will be plentiful.
For all the stress and the ups and downs of late, a getaway is just what the doctor ordered. Well, maybe not my doctor. My doctor told me to keep my leg up (clearly I will accomplish this poolside and at the spa) and not to put weight on it (for the most part, sure) and to use crutches (nope, they will not be coming with me. Heels will.).
I need this.
Thank you, friend. You know who you are. XOXO