A lot of things have changed for Wes and me since we moved here. We have had to adjust to cohabitation and all that it entails. We (more I) have had to acclimate to polar temperatures and enough snow days to make me wonder if I will ever get a summer vacation (more on this later). We have also had to adjust to living much closer to (and farther away from) family. Don’t get me wrong, the whole reason we moved here was to be closer to family, and we absolutely love being able to spend extra time with them and going on trips to visit them, but it does sometimes make it harder to get away alone for a weekend.
When we lived in Jacksonville, we made a habit of taking long weekends, just the two of us. We would get away to Orlando or St. Augustine or Amelia Island and spend the weekend relaxing on the beach or drinking Butterbeers at Islands of Adventure. But since we’ve been Lexingtonians, it seems like life has just been busier (or maybe we just lack beaches to visit). Needless to say, we hadn’t taken a long weekend away, just the two of us, since July. That is, until last weekend.
We decided back in November that January’s long weekend would be just for us. We picked our destination (Cincinnati) and began to anticipate our much-needed weekend away. I even bought Wes tickets to see Book of Mormon while we were there. It was shaping up to be exactly what we needed. That is, until the bad luck started happening…
It started when a couple of surprise meetings caused us to have to postpone our departure until Saturday afternoon. Then, before we left, I was diagnosed with a sinus and ear infection. Once we got there the bitter cold sent two inches of snow our way. The piano bar we wanted to explore was closed indefinitely. The pool was crowded. The maid forgot to clean our room. The restaurant Wes planned to take me to was closed. It seemed like bad luck was lurking around every corner.
As we rode up to our room in the elevator halfway through our second day, I pointed out to Wes that our weekend getaways tend to have the “bad luck” trend. There was the weekend in Cocoa Beach with the parking garage pool (don’t ask Wes about this; he’s still very sensitive). There was the rogue raccoon by the hot tub in Fort Lauderdale. The horrific thunderstorm while we sipped wine at a rooftop bar in St. Augustine. The stories seem to be endless. But as we both came to the realization that “bad luck” was our rule, not our exception, we kind of embraced it. Those stories are what made all those weekends special and memorable. They are what make them “ours” as silly as it might sound. And really the bad luck doesn’t stop us. We always manage to have an amazing time. I guess having bad luck when you’re with the only person in the world who can turn your luck around, might just make you the luckiest person in the world.