Anniversary Fun!

Here I sit, with a wonderful glass of sauvignon blanc, and I am finally beginning to relax. Unfortunately, this relaxation has come just a couple days after the expectation of a wonderfully relaxing anniversary weekend with my wonderful husband of four years.

Why, you ask? It seems that my wonderful husband and I are cursed with an existence of a life of vacations doomed to fail. The first three years of celebrations went as follows:

Honeymoon- A gorgeous week long, all-inclusive trip to Jamaica. Nothing can go wrong there, right? Until you're dressed for your hometown with current 25 degree weather and you're stuck in a Caribbean paradise with only the clothes on your back because all of your luggage has been lost on the flight over.

Year 1- Moments before boarding our very first cruise advenure we received news of our beloved Gramma Sally's diagnoses of pancreatic cancer.

Year 2- To say the least the year was a difficult one. We were celebrating our second anniversary with an official separation.

Year 3- We were back on track! Marriage has survived the tumultous newlywed years and we have high hopes for a fantastic anniversary celebration..... until a couple days before when the hubby slips on a freak patch of ice, rolls and totals the vehicle. You can see where this has begun to create a pattern.

I can't describe in words how ready we were for a simple, enjoyable, long weekend at the beach. We booked our package stay at the La Jolla Cove Suites with included bike tour, snorkeling and kayak tour and trip to Sea World. The expectation above all else? To simply enjoy a weekend being together while we escaped the daily stress of our crazy, work-filled lives.

Cut to day one of our trip. Spirits are high! We are ready for this wonderfully relaxing experience. We are driving south on the 15 fwy towards our first stop to meet friends at the San Diego Wild Animal Park.... and our car is now... you guessed it... Stalling. It is stalling. On the 15 freeway on the way to our darn RELAXING anniversary weekend.

So I calmly pull over and struggle, "will" if you must, the car to just 20 feet away from the Arco off of Deer Springs Rd in Escondido. We then proceed to go through the rigmarole of calling a tow truck, having aforesaid vehicle towed to the nearest dealership, transferring money from three different accounts for the emergency and finding our way to the nearest Enterprise Rent-a-Car for our new transportation for the weekend. The first day of our relaxing weekend is now shot and the service advisor from the dealership is telling us that the most likely scenario is that the transmission will need to be replaced and the repair will cost us an astounding $4500 and three days to fix. That's right, I said it, $4500. 

At this point we are in a state of sheer frustration, shock and dismay. All we wanted was a nice relaxing weekend. Is that too much to ask!? In spite of the frustration we trudge to our hotel and determine to continue with the vacation. We were stuck there anyway, right? 

After a night of sleep we awoke ready for our second day of adventure, ready for biking fun, snorkeling and kayaking in spite of day one's disasters. However, we quickly realized that amidst the chaos of the previous day we had not had a chance to check in for our scheduled tours within the required 24 hour advance notice time table. Due to the previous day's car shenanigans our second day was shot. No tours. No bikes. No snorkeling or kayak fun.

In that moment I cannot explain the frustration level that the first four years of vacation hell had brought me to. I am ashamed to say we began to argue and take the situation out on one another. It's amazing how quickly a couple day's frustration can begin to escalate to a major all out brawl with the one you love on such a sacred day as your anniversary. At that moment when our vacation seemed doomed and our tempers simply exploded, I received a phone call...

A very calm voice of a very nice service advisor from the car dealership currently housing our car was calling to inform me that they had located the issue. The gas gauge was broken. We had simply run out of gas.

A scant 20 feet from the gas station where we had intended to stop for gas with a quarter of a tank remaining. 

20 feet. 

I have never, in my life, felt such a sense of relief and sheer frustration combined into one feeling such as that moment. 

My lesson of the day. Don't sweat the small stuff. Even if it seems like the four year, $4500, doomed life of vacations, big stuff. 

 You'll just feel ridiculous in the end.