on optimizing for fun

and the lake charlotte mini epic

When I saw the look in his eyes, I knew he was my brother.

Not a bio-bro, but the kind from a different mother dontchaknow.

Ten years younger than me, his energy seemed anything but. He was laden down like an old mule. He had a backpack on each shoulder, a duffel bag crossed those as well. His left hand pushed a cart that looked like a rolling Jenga tower. His right hand pulled a carry on bag with three additional duffel bags clinging desperately to the handle.

Two children under five ran screaming around what I assumed was his wife who was muttering and texting frantically as they made their way away from the baggage claim.

Our eyes caught for a second. He shook his head and laughed. His laughter was entirely without pleasure.

His ashen skin and sunken eyes told me everything I needed to know: This was a man returning from vacation. And at this moment? He couldn’t wait to get back to work.

Vacation should not be a drag.

And it always seems to be.

Go away for a week, then take two more to r…