Sigh. The angst. Stuck in a fancy-schmancy hotel room that’s too good for free Internet. As I write this post, Shane is in his two-day, ALL-day CLE classes, and I’m “stuck” in the hotel room with only an iPhone to comfort me.

Do I sound spoiled? I feel it. There’s a lush, rock-lined nature trail outside my open window. (No, seriously.)

An expansive porch filled with rocking chairs invites visitors to disconnect from the world on this rolling 300-acre estate, perhaps to pick up a book instead of a phone.

I had coffee there this morning. But when I found out WiFi wasn’t free even in the public areas, I whipped out my Free WiFi Locator app and shot back to the room, intent on heading to Starbucks. (grumble, grumble)

Then I started to reason with myself. Perhaps I should go ahead and pay the Internet fee here. I could avoid the traffic, enjoy the atmosphere, get some work done. After all, I’ll definitely get some use out of it. Plus, I’m on vacation! (It’s always easier to talk yourself into unnecessary purchases when you’re on vacation. Oh, and don’t get me started about how sad it is that I think going to my husband’s CLE is vacation.) ((Just kidding–it really is fun!))

The other Me responds. But it’s an absolutely ridiculous fee! Ten bucks a day for Internet is simply grotesque! Why should I give in to the outrageous demands of a hotel that’s already charging 200 bucks a night?

I play a round of Baker’s Solitaire to stall while I figure out what to do next. Go or stay? Free or paid?

Then a new thought hits me. Maybe I don’t need the Internet today.

Why is it that I don’t feel I can get on with my day until I’ve checked my email? I mean, I do have messages to respond to. But today? Perhaps instead of talking myself into buying Internet access because “I’m on vacation,” I should allow myself to ignore my inbox for the same reason.

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Shane pulled his hamstring playing softball on Thursday. It’s actually quite a story. His famous last words were, “Hey, y’all wanna see something funny?” The low-loop, co-ed team of lawyers was up against the best team in the league–and down by 11 points. With two outs in the final inning, my darling husband decided to have some fun. I noticed him taking a couple of left-handed practice swings, so I wasn’t surprised when he walked behind the ump to the other side of home plate.

“Does Shane bat left-handed?” the woman next to me asked. “No,” I replied calmly. “No, he doesn’t.” Sigh.

Somehow on the first pitch, he managed a measly in-field hit right toward the other team’s only not-perfect player. Heeding my advice to “always, always run it out,” he safely made it to first. But when the ball was overthrown to the first baseman, Shane naturally headed for second.

He was almost tagged at second, but a timely drop by the second baseman saved him. However, the third baseman thought the game was over (shouldn’t it be by now?) and was halfway to the dugout. So Shane skittered on to third.

I can’t quite remember what happened at third. The baseman got back, got the ball…but I think by this point, Shane had just decided it was all or nothing. So off he went for the run. The way he tells it, he thought the third baseman was chasing him, so he really started sprinting. Unfortunately, two steps before home plate–pop!–goes his hamstring, and he fell flat on his face. (As his legal assistant pointed out, the only part of his body that actually touched the plate was his forehead.)

Recalling his prognostication (“Y’all wanna see something funny?”), we all assumed this was a part of his master plan to make us laugh in spite of our athletic ineptitude (well, their ineptitude, really–I’m just a fan). It wasn’t until he limped back to the dugout that we realized the only funny part to him was the left-handed swing.

He did say it was worth it. Despite the pain, he was on Cloud Nine the first few days, reliving his feat to parents, co-workers and fellow churchgoers. But as the week wears on, the euphoria wears thin. I seem to hear less and less about rounding third and more and more about how he still can’t tie his shoes. I guess he isn’t doing well with any strings this week.

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