It was October, and the perfect time for a vacation. I had 3 weeks off work and a week of solo time arranged. I'd been humming and hawing about where to go with only a week at my disposal. Due to timing, crossing the pond was out of the question. And it seemed South America was also a 36 hour venture, so I had to look a little closer to home... or at least on the same continent.
As luck would have it, my friend B and I had been saying for years that we should get together again, so this seemed like a perfect opportunity. However, I'm not the best at planning things in advance. I prefer spur of the moment decisions and keeping things spontaneous. The first time I went to visit I gave him 36 hours notice before I boarded a flight. This time was a bit better... he had a week.
The only unfortunate part about doing things last minute is the cost of flights. Flights were initially threatening to be upwards of 1700$! But by some stroke of luck I hit gold. On my hundredth timing refreshing on a re-search, there it was... 200$ round trip (after my visa rewards paid the rest). B had barely ok'd the times before I was clicking "BOOK". It wasn't exactly the most direct flight in the world, but for 200$, I was making an adventure out of it.
_______________________________
Layover #1
SFO
Seven hours
My first layover on this solo adventure was in San Francisco. It was going to be a long journey to go such a short distance, but truth be told, I was kind of excited. I'd never been to San Francisco, or even California for that matter, so I was looking forward to experiencing the infamous Californian sun. And seven hours was more than enough time to leave the airport and start an adventure.
This was a carry-on only trip, so before I could ditch the airport, I had to ditch my wheelie luggage.
25 USD. Check.
As per my pre-trip research (ie. a coffee walk with Ryan), my next stop was BART. The Bay Area Rapid Transit system. It was the easiest and most direct route to downtown SFO, though maybe not the cheapest.
35 USD. Check.
30 minutes after touchdown I was sitting on the train watching the buildings pass me by as we sped into the city. My first impression of SFO, or at least the Bay Area, was that it was very structured. Houses were all built in rigid lines, side-by-side along straight and very steep streets. Everything was very uniform. Even the flat roofs were in line and level with each other. The only difference was the colour. Pinks, yellows, blues, greens... a wonderful collection of the rainbow.
I got off at Powell Street station and ascended from the BART cave into the crisp air of the street above. I was met with the sounds of vibrant city life. Loud music was playing from a pop-up stereo system, cable cars were clanging along their railways, and a random homeless guy was telling off a stranger for having rudely cut in front of him. The beautiful blue skies were only visible if your looked straight up, otherwise it was all concrete. From the sidewalks and streets at your feet, to the rising building on every side of you: Nordstrom, Saks 5th avenue, Tiffany's, Sephora, and Walgreens. It was a myriad of tastes and styles at every vantage point. The area instantly reminded me of Lisbon, complete with the endlessly steep streets.
I started walking up, along the cable car street. It was steep, but I was game. While vaguely following Google maps I was heading, more or less, in the direction of the painted ladies. Shops were just starting to open, yet there were no shortage of pedestrians along the main drag. I just kept trekking along, up and down streets, admiring the buildings, wishing I'd brought my sunglasses. I was determined to find the famous Victorian style houses I'd seen on tv nearly every day of my childhood. And Google maps told me I was close... but then I came across that all to recognizable smell. Urine. Stale urine in the heat. The smell was closely followed by rows and rows of people sleeping on the sidewalks. I was now standing right in the middle of a very popular camp out for those living with homelessness. Not that I have anything against the homeless, having worked with this population for many years of my career thus far. But things were getting a bit sketchier the further I ventured, so I abandoned the Pink Ladies and noped outta there in search of food.
I still had a bit of time to kill, so went searching for a restaurant with a view. I came across a familiar name and it fit with my goal. It was a few floors above ground level and looked directly out towards the green of Union Square itself.
But can I just vent about how crazy expensive things are these days. It cost me $66 for a salad and a glass of wine. At the Cheesecake Factory. I mean the salad may have been the classic American-size, but it was lettuce. A mountain of lettuce and squished grapes shouldn't cost $66. Well, I was now out of money and feeling the wine, so it was time to leave. I fumbled back to the train station in enough time to find my way back to SFO airport in a mostly sober state.
Next stop - Houston, after a little airport yoga to sweat out the wine.
________________________________
Layover #2
IAH
Twelve hours
My next stop involved an overnight stay in Houston. Now, I've spent more than my fair share of nights sleeping on airport floors around the world. And to be honest, if I can avoid it now, I will. I'd pre-booked my hotel and was looking forward to a hot shower and a good sleep, even if it was only for a few hours. When I booked my hotel, I made sure there was an airport shuttle. I didn't want the hassle or expense of an Uber at night, and just wanted to get out of the airport as soon as possible. But I guess airport shuttles are only any good if they actually run.
After waiting at the shuttle pick up location for way longer than necessary, I went to seek out a phone. Fantastic Canadian phone plans meant I didn't have service (and I forgot to top up my Skype credit), so when I asked an airport employee where the nearest payphone was he looked at me like I had something loose in my head. And yeah, I guess payphone aren't really around anymore, but what do you do when you don't have a phone and you're stuck in a foreign land? (Yes, America is foreign.) Instead of pointing me in the direction of the nearest courtesy phone the guy called the hotel on my behalf. Now get this. The hotel I was staying at caters to airline passengers. It actually has the word "airport" in it's name. Flights arriving at all hours of the night is not something new. Yet for some reason this particular hotel stopped running their shuttle service at 10pm. 10pm. And nowhere on their website did they advertise this. What a load of garbage. 35USD later... to drive 4km (35USD for 4 km!!!!!) I arrived at my hotel exhausted and livid. 35 USD. Ridiculous.
Whatever. Still better than an airport floor I guess
Anyways, it didn't matter, because the next morning I'd be in the mountains of Mexico.
________________________________
Final Destination
MTY
I'm not going to share every detail of my trip, but instead I'm going to share what I learned while I was there, which happened to be during World Mental Health Day (but I will share some photos are the end).
World Mental Health Day was on 10 October. Although I no longer work in mental health, it's no less important to me. Your mental health is something that should be taken very seriously. My friend recently told me that he goes to therapy. Except he likes to call it "mental training". I love it. Mental training. There's so much in this world that threatens to bring us down. And sometimes the world does succeed. And when that happens, it really sucks. I'm no stranger to feeling low and having those days when it's a struggle to get through the day in one piece without completely breaking down. And although I know how important it is to do things that strengthen your mental health, there are times when that's incredibly hard to do. At times it feels like I have so much on my plate that I just don't know where to start, or if my every-expanding to-do list will ever end.
Momming is hard. We all know that. Even those of you without kids can probably appreciate the stress a mom feels when you see her trying to keep her shit together as her toddler-turned-devil child melts down in the middle of the grocery store because God-forbid the child be asked to stop licking the cart handle. And most of the time we feel like we're failing. And we feel guilty for asking for a break, whether it be an hour or two to go for a run, or a grocery shop on our own, or a solo week-long vacation. But people, we need to recognize when we're at our breaking point. It sounds like a live-laugh-love phrase, but there is so much truth in this statement:
"You can't take care of others if you don't take care of yourself first."
You are no good to anyone else (as a mom, partner, friend) if you don't have your own shit together. There is nothing wrong with taking time for yourself. There is nothing wrong with taking a minute, or a hour, or a week, to regroup.
I did this.
And this time I didn't feel guilty. I needed to take some time for myself, and my family recognized it too. So I took the time. I went to Mexico. Not to the sit and chill on a beach with unlimited margaritas though. In staying true to my history of having never been to a Mexican all-inclusive resort, I retreated to the mountains of Monterrey to visit a friend. It wasn't an adventure-packed trip, but rather a week to recharge. I slept in until at least 10am EVERY day. I went for runs. I drank good coffee. I binged all the Netflix series on my watch list. I harnessed my inner Grandma and took up cross-stitch. I went for a hike. And I got to hang out with a long time friend and his beautiful Husky, Kuma. It was glorious. It gave me time to think and reflect and decide what's next. What makes me happy? I'm a mom, yes, and my priority is my daughter, but I'm also allowed to be a priority too. I'm allowed to work at a job I love. I'm allowed to have hobbies and goals and aspirations. In my failing struggle to be the perfect mom, I've forgotten about me. Or at least haven't given myself permission to do what I want. I've done what's best for my daughter, to the very best of my ability thus far. As a mom you constantly make sacrifices, and as a single mom those sacrifices become more significant because you don't have a partner to lean on and share the load with. You do what you have to do. You make the decisions that are best for your tiny human. The one that depends on you for everything. But sometimes it's ok to think about yourself first. Sometimes it's ok to fill you own cup. Do what you need to do to build yourself up and don't feel guilty about it. We need to support each other! Life is not meant to be lived completely solo. We need each other. And we need to look out for each other.
So if you're ever struggling, please reach out. I won't judge. I'm here for you.
Mental health is important.
... And so is a week in Mexico.
(Click for slideshow)
Comments