"Hey you know, the first time I tried to talk to you, you embarrassed me. So I teased you a little bit which maybe I shouldn't have done, so I'm sorry. And now you're sitting over there playing with your knife, trying to frighten me - which you're doing a good job...The preceding isn't just dude ranch hand-for-a-week, Billy Crystal’s ‘Mitch,’ pressing his luck with Jack Palance’s gristled cowboy, ‘Curley,’ in one of my all-time favorite flicks, 1991’s City Slickers; no, today, it's me, giving life a two-handed chest-push and saying, “Step back, Jack.”
But if you're gonna kill me, get on with it; if not, shut the hell up - I'm on vacation."
For the next seven days I’m the one callin’ the shots. I’m tired of being tired and mentally beat-down by the Man. Sure, I’ve got things to do, but I’m gonna do them on my own schedule. I’m taking a week off of work to do some more work, but on my own terms and at my own pace; neither will I be under the thumb of activity or travel schedules during this working holiday; Michelle and I aren’t going anywhere. However we both have agendas that we plan to stick to and goals we intend to accomplish — although mine will be a site bit looser than hers.
So, bite me, o shrieking banshee-of-an-alarm-clock. Up your nose with a rubber hose, rush hour traffic. Kiss my pitootie, mind-numbing staff meetings. You’ve all tried to kill me but failed; so shut the hell up — I’m on staycation.