WDW Trip Countdown: The Six Month Stretch

They say that absence makes the heart grow fonder. When it comes to WDW, I think absence makes my mind grow crazier.

There’s the Week-after Post-partum, when I wake up and think, a week ago I was waking up in a WDW resort. (I actually have this thought regardless of the vacation destination, and always one week after retuning home. Some people measure their lives in days, minutes, seasons of love – I measure mine in weeks since my last vacation.) This always results in a day's worth of melancholy.

The Week-after Post-partum later gives way to the One Month Meltdown, usually timed to when I finally get around to taking the photos off my camera. This involves me getting swept away in all the great times I had, contrasted against my less-than-magical reality. And slowly, over time, things fade a bit as I get bogged down by work, social commitments, errands, laundry, and dirty dishes. And then, just when I had forgotten it was coming, it hits me like a freight train.

The Six Month Stretch.

I can’t really explain why it happens, but one day it just hits me that I don’t really remember my last trip to WDW at all. I mean, I remember the highlights –getting moved to the front of the Toy Story Mania line because of Birthday Specialness, getting soaked beyond all comprehension on Kali River Rapids, having a saintly waiter usher unruly children away from our table at the California Grill. I remember all that, but the details are getting fuzzy. I don’t remember what my score was the last time I rode TSM. I no longer get that squelchy clammy sensation when I see the purple shorts I wore to the Animal Kingdom that day. I can’t remember what kind of wine I had with dinner, although I remember loving it. There are some days where I can’t even remember what a Dole Whip tastes like, and that, dear friends, is terrifying. (The only sense memory that never goes away – air conditioning on the buses. I’m serious. I get chills just writing about it, and not the good kind. The cold kind.)

This sudden memory loss always hits right around the six month mark. Six months since my last trip, six months (or more) until I’ll likely get to go again. I’m in the doldrums. And there's only one cure for this - booking another trip. In the meantime, if someone could bring me back a Dole Whip, that would be great.


This post is part of the DisMarks Blog Carnival. For more great Disney reads, click here.
---
Related Links:
* Disney Memories: One to Forget
* The 10 Best Things About Downtown Disney
* Five (More) People You Meet in WDW