I’ve messed up enough trips to admit this comfortably. Like, not once or twice. A pattern. The kind where you come back home more tired than before the vacation and start questioning your life choices somewhere between airport security and your own bed. Travel...
I used to think a “real” vacation had to be at least ten days. Anything shorter felt like cheating. Like ordering a small pizza when you’re actually hungry. But weirdly, some of my best memories came from those random two-day getaways where I barely...