Dear Jamaica, Please Adopt Me

Somewhere in Jamaica there is a sandy spot with my name on it.

Literally.

A little patch of sand.

A beach chair.

A couple shots of tequila.

A steady supply of Lamb’s Bread and Jamaican Dream.

Absolutely zero responsibilities.

And most importantly…

NO CELL SERVICE.

None.

Not one text message.

Not one email.

Not one person asking me where their socks are, what’s for supper, where the remote is, or why the dog is making weird noises.

Just me, the ocean, and whatever tropical drink comes with a tiny umbrella in it.

The only flaw in this otherwise flawless life plan is that if I leave for Jamaica…

I probably won’t come back.

I will simply immigrate to the beach permanently.

At that point you’ll find me living in a shack by the water selling seashells and aggressively minding my own business.

Which leads me to a question that has haunted me for years:

How lucky does a person have to be to wake up in paradise every single day?

I’m talking about places like:

• Santorini, Greece

• The Maldives

• Hawaii

• Jamaica

How do people just… LIVE there?

How do they wake up, look outside, see crystal blue water and palm trees, and still go to work like that’s normal?

Meanwhile, I somehow got assigned to Nebraska.

Now don’t get me wrong.

I love Nebraska!

I love the endless prairie.

I love the sunsets.

I love watching the grass sway in the wind.

There is something peaceful and beautiful about this place that will always be home.

But.

And this is a very important but!

IT SNOWS HERE.

Why?

Whose idea was that?

Cold air literally falls from the sky and everyone just accepts this as a normal thing.

Disgusting!

Anyway.

Since my Jamaican escape plan currently lacks funding, I suppose I should focus on my actual plans for the next week.

Current Agenda:

1. Get my final check from YCC and pay bills like the responsible adult I occasionally pretend to be.

2. Buy MORE groceries because apparently my children consume food as a competitive sport. Why do they need to eat EVERY day?!

3. Tan. Because if I can’t go to Jamaica, I’m bringing Jamaica to Nebraska.

4. Take a few naps. By “a few” I mean every opportunity that presents itself.

5. Become a household dictator and force my children and husband to clean, organize, and do chores. Their complaints will be ignored.

6. Finalize Fourth of July plans.

7. Bake goodies because for the first time in forever… (who else sang that line with me!?! Iykyk!) I HAVE TIME.

8. Add more songs to my playlist because music is cheaper than therapy.

9. Think about running away.

Not actually running away.

Just thinking about it dramatically.

10. Figure out what I want to do for a job when I grow up. Which feels like an absolutely ridiculous question considering I’m 40 years old.

But here we are.

The truth is, for the first time in a long time, I have something I haven’t had much of lately:

Time.

Time to breathe.

Time to organize.

Time to rest.

Time to figure out what comes next.

And while I’m still daydreaming about beach bars and tropical islands, maybe this little pause in life is exactly what I needed.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I have chores to assign, groceries to buy, cookies to bake, playlists to update, and an imaginary one-way flight to Jamaica to plan.

If anyone needs me, I’ll be sitting outside pretending Nebraska rain and humidity is ocean air.