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By Allia Zobel Nolan

Like many people who daydreamed and counted the days until vacation, I, too, couldn’t wait. A big anniversary had my husband and me browsing brochures in search of a holiday in Spain and Portugal. “I’ll get back to you,” I said to the travel agent.

I never did. The place went under and so did I. Under cover, that is, in my house, sneaking out at daybreak, masked to the gills, in search of hand sanitizer and toilet paper, and for the apocalypse cabinet, some powered milk, eggs and beans. Then, just as the sun came up, I’d slink back, wash my stash in the driveway, and begin another day sheltering in place.

There were worse things. Losing out on a vacation was the least of them. The fact that I was alive, had a roof over my head and food on my table, when others didn’t, humbled me. I began to count my blessings: my husband, my cats, my friends. I also had diversions — the radio, the TV, my writing, my devices. I had social media, Facebook, Twitter, LinkedIn. Plus, it was an election year and there was lots going on. I was fine. I could handle this.

Then March went into May and May into August, and August into October. And those diversions I had depended on to get me through began to take on a new, sinister face. Toxicity and hopelessness poured from the very things that were supposed to keep me entertained and sane. Like slow water torture, the ubiquitous bombshells of bad news blaring from everywhere saturated my very being. I felt trapped in a grade C horror movie. The problem was, though, it wasn’t a movie. It was real life in 2020. And I couldn’t turn it off.

Or could I? Well, I may be scarred. But, thank God, I am a survivor. With the election over, and hopes for a vaccine in the not-too-distant future, I thought to myself: Now is the time to reboot, reset, reconsider. And that’s when what was left of my saner self insisted: Woman, you need a “stop-this-year-I-want-to-get-off” detox-a-cation. A holiday. You need to turn off the din and turn on to a softer, gentler, quieter channel of life. You need to take the road less traveled; the high road; the yellow brick road....Whatever. Girl, you need to unplug...and chillax.

Still, I can’t very well fly to another place, another land. But I can change my routine. So I made a plan, and I sure hope it works. I’m taking a two week detox-a-cation.

Okay, so dragging a wheelbarrow of sand into my living room might not be practical. Nevertheless, I can pretend I’m on a South Sea island in other ways. Crank up the heat, put all the lights on and dig out my shorts and T-shirts. No news radio on all day (Sorry, Brian Leher); skip the three news programs I generally watch and stream old movies like “Paradise Hawaiian Style” or “Pirates of the Caribbean” while imbibing a tropical drink complete with umbrella.

I can strictly limit social media to one hour every other day. I even bought one of those old-fashioned white kitchen timers in preparation to make sure I stay on target. I can hang a shingle on my email and website informing all, “Gone de-toxing; back in two weeks.”

Now I know this is not going to be easy. FOMO (the fear of missing out) will grip me at first. I may even shake and shudder. But I intend to channel the energy I’d have spent worrying and being upset into relaxing, reading, writing, exhaling, watching sunsets, playing with the cats; maybe I’ll send postcards to friends letting them know I’m having fun and wishing they were “here.”

I could delete and/or file years of photos on my computer, or start my Christmas cards — anything to keep my brain occupied as it withdraws from the constant bombardment of so very many things I’d rather not see, hear, or read. Me? An ostrich? Yes, well for two weeks, burying my head in the ground, away from the din, is where I want to go on holiday.

Yes, my down time this year will be lots different than in years passed. Still I’m hoping it will go a long way to calm, revive and rejuvenate me.

And like on holidays of old, I might dream of never returning to the status quo. Hey, I have an idea: Want to join me?

— Allia Zobel Nolan

Allia Zobel Nolan is the author of the newly published children's book, God Made Us Just Right, a reprise of Why a Cat Is Still Better Than a Man as well as the second edition of The Worrywart's Prayer Book. She is an internationally published author of over 150 traditionally published children's and adult trade titles. Her books reflect her two main passions, God and cats, and include such varied titles as Cat Confessions: A Kitty Come Clean Tell All Book, Whatever Is Lovely: a 90-Day Devotional and Journal; and What I Like About You: A Book About Acceptance. She shares her life with her husband, Desmond, and their two feline children, Nolan Nolan and Colleen Fiona Shannon Nolan. In 2018, she collaborated with the Erma Bombeck Writers' Workshop on the humor anthology, Laugh Out Loud: 40 Women Humorists Celebrate Then and Now Before We Forget.