If you had asked me two days ago what I envisioned myself doing between now and next Tuesday when Jeremy gets back from San Francisco, I would have said I’d be moping around Brighton trying to avoid stress, boredom and irritation.

As it happens, I will be poking around Seattle instead, trying to avoid getting rained on, drinking too much coffee or spending too much money in the Elliot Bay Book Company. What a difference a day (or two) makes, eh?

I was toying with the idea of a trip like this back in December, but with lots of work lined up, and a Salter Cane gig looming, and several other big trips planned for late February and early March, it didn’t seem very likely that I’d be able to swing it. I told my parents I’d look into it, though, and when I did finally look into it—on Monday night—I was rather surprised to find that a quick trip over looked less expensive and more feasible than I had previously thought. So after a quick phone call to my brother in Seattle and only a tiny bit of hemming and hawing, I booked myself a flight. And tomorrow morning (weather permitting), I’ll head off for four whole days in the Emerald City.

I’m fairly certain this will be the farthest I’ve ever gone for the shortest amount of time at the shortest notice. A small part of me thinks I’m crazy to take off like this (for all the reasons mentioned above). But a larger part of me thinks that there’s no point in being able to take off at a moment’s notice if I don’t actually do it every once in a while. And I do love Seattle. And I’ll get to see my whole family. And it sure beats sitting here by myself and twiddling my thumbs all weekend. So I’m outta here…