Wah wah wah, my life is soooooo hard.

I had high hopes for my silent journey.

TOO high hopes, it seems.

I thought I'd finally get to escape from all the crap that has been swirling around me for months, I'd find peace and I'd come home feeling renewed.

None of that happened. The opposite happened, actually.

I didn't have any distractions so all I could do was focus on how confused I was about everything and the tiny, perfect resort I was holed up in somehow became a prison.

That sounds SO cliche, I know, and I want to punch myself in the face for feeling all these things I think are weak and melodramatic when others experience them...but there I was, driving around Palm Springs in my rental car, hoping for something better but having to pull over so I could have my crying fit without risk of crashing the Hyundai.

I am a champion at feeling sorry for myself on my birthday. This year was just amplified. And then squared.

I did actually try to come home on Saturday and just eat the cost of the plane ticket, last night at the hotel and last day of services at the spa. It would only cost me $100 extra to return the car in San Francisco so LET'S GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE, HYUNDAI! Except the reasonable me eventually woke up and realized that it was too late in the day to start a 450 mile trip and that I'd be regretting my decision sometime around 10PM that night when I was still 200 miles from home.

So here's what I did:

1. I picked up a pizza.

2. I bought a bottle of wine and some cookies.

3. And then I ate them, which was kind of the opposite of the "I really don't care if I ever eat again" plan that I've been on in recent weeks.

My alternate plan was to take a shower and then take myself to a fancy birthday dinner somewhere in Palm Springs but decided that I'd rather spend $25 on my Pizza Hut, cheap wine and store brand cookie feast than $75 on a chic solo dinner when I knew I'd finish either one and feel the same.

(Proof of my financial responsibility, yo!)

4. So whatever. I made the best of it and met a lady in the hot tub who was excited about getting a floor model couch from Restoration Hardware for 60% off and another lady with dreds and tattoos who told me that she met her husband at Carrow's but that he hates it when she tells people that.

5. And then I did a few laps in the pool and thought about how lucky I was to be floating around in the desert, looking at 50,000 stars.

And then I went to bed and when I woke up, my birthday was over.

Blah blah blah. I woke up the next day, did some more floating around in the mineral water, found a really big, blue bug hiding in my bathing suit and treating my left butt cheek like a buffet (and leaving a painful and now itchy hole in my skin), had a massage (which I decided would be my last...I'm not a huge fan anyway but it occurs to me that I don't like taking my shoes and my belt off at the airport because I don't like the unwelcome intimacy with strangers, so why would I take off my clothes and let some lady who doesn't give a crap about me rub my back?) and then headed home.

All in all, silent journey: FAIL!