Sometimes I can get pretty irritable. Then I struggle to work out why I’m so irate, which frustrates me. This frustration, in turn, makes me even more insufferable to be around. Those who know me are aware of how much of a pain in the arse I can be when I’m in the doldrums like this.
I guess sometimes the root of all this can be burnout: I might just be in need of a rest. But other times, it might be more complicated. I might need some time out to figure out what’s going on. And ‘time out’ sounds suspiciously similar to ‘a rest’. So, let’s be honest, what I always need is a good old bit of respite.
This realisation came to me just before Easter, and so I resolved to do something that I’d been toying with for years and check myself into a five-star spa hotel. I wasn’t bothered where I went, I just wanted the most pressing issues of my days to be the ratio of sweet to savoury at the breakfast buffet and whether I preferred warm or temperate water in my jacuzzi bath.
I realise as I write that I sound pretty insufferable. “Corporate worker takes luxury break due to burnout” isn’t the most original or relatable story, and I can certainly hear the voice of my past self scoffing at the idea: first world problems, check your privilege, etcetera, etcetera. But it is what it is. I’m getting old and I’m beginning to understand why my parents always insisted on a fortnight spent splayed out on a sandy beach or a poolside deckchair. Adult life is tiring.
In this worn-out state, then, I somehow had to organise a trip. Travelling used to be all about the excitement of planning, the thrill of catching a plane or train, and “it’s not the destination, it’s the journey”. Now, it’s just a chore I endure to get where I need to be. So, despite all my reservations about cognitive offloading, I fired up ChatGPT. My brain was already fried and so I surmised that no further harm could be done.
That’s how I ended up in Tarragona. I stepped off the train at a station that the AI overlords had confidently told me was a quick taxi away from my accommodation. I arrived 45 minutes and 55€ later at the hotel lobby, a healthy dose of karma after the hours I’ve spent tirelessly preaching to others about the need to cross-reference and double-check everything AI spits out.
In checking into my room, I checked out of life for a few days. I threw my phone into the safe and swapped my trainers for some white slippers. I divvied up my time between the spa, the pool, and the beach. I don’t think I’ve ever spent so much time in a bathrobe in my entire life. And just when I was beginning to tire of all this relaxation and solitude, I found someone to spend some time with… but that’s a whole other story.
Despite my physical inactivity, which I am an expert at, my brain took longer to slow down. At the beginning, these fancy surroundings were a mere backdrop for my thoughts. I pondered many things, but front and centre was the need to know why I felt compelled to take a break like this. The conclusion I eventually came to was pretty simple and rather anticlimactic: I just needed a fucking rest.
