Why Do People Go On Vacation?

Ever wonder why we go on vacation?

Maybe we like the drive? I mean, at first it was nice. We commented on the beautiful trees, mountains, water on clouds. We got an easy mitzvah saying "Ma Rabu Ma'asecha Hashem." But at a certain point, the trees start to blend together into a mush, the water starts looking murky, and the clouds burst and release a torrential downpour onto the very road which you are driving on. So you think to yourself, "it can't be the drive. That's just a means to the destination."

Many long hours of traveling finally brings you to your (rather nice) hotel. Perhaps this is the reason I am on vacation, to relax in a comfortable hotel room. So we unload the car, shlep the luggage up through the elevator into our room, and start to fight. When I was younger, and I was traveling with my family, the entrance into our hotel room would be like this: mad dash into the room. Everyone scrambles for something. One of us grabs the mini soaps and shampoos, another grabs the pad and pen imprinted with the hotel name, and the rest pout all night because they weren't quick enough to get any freebies. Thankfully, we have grown past those days. Tonight, we made a mad dash into our hotel room and staked out the better beds. Being a real talmid of Aharon Hakohen, I took the pull out sofa, which is probably part of the reason I am sitting on this chair at the computer instead of sleeping in a comfortable queen bed. Either way, I don't think the hotel is the reason I am on vacation.

For starters, there is the mess. I can't handle when things are disorganized. I like things to be in their place. I like things to be exactly where I put them, and where I find them when I need them. Looking around the room, at the suitcases strewn about the floor, the food packages strewn about, the myriad wires for every one's cell phone chargers, iPods, laptops, and cameras, the cooler lying in a distinctly hazardous manner across the entrance to out "suite", the towels all over the bathroom floor, and the half empty water bottles everywhere, I have come to the conclusion that it's a GOOD thing I am sitting facing the wall.

Then, there is the noise. I have had my own bedroom for as long as I can remember, and really don't like roommates. I am sitting here listening to one of the others snoring, and I am realizing that the only way I will sleep a wink tonight will be what I call the "seminary system." I haven't employed this method since my seminary days, but I will be sleeping with headphones blaring some slow music, such as Shwekey Behisorerus, or perhaps Project Relax.

And while the others might be feeling very vacationed in their queen beds, I don't see how this pull out couch with a mattress the Israelis would be jealous of is supposed to make me feel more relaxed.

I guess it's like the story of the guy who went complaining to his Rabbi that his house was too small. After first taking in, then removing, all of the animals on the farm, his house was much bigger. I think that by the time I get home, I will appreciate it so much more.