Ok, I had my doubts at first but I did manage to survive the weekend. And I actually enjoyed myself, despite everything I missed back home.
Let's face it, we're hardwired for guilt as moms. And going away for the weekend when your child has something going on, even if it's to further your career or even if you can't get out of it, makes you feel like sludge. I'm so good at this I unintentionally punish myself. Sure, I'll go, but you can't make me like it. I'll actually "plan" to have a miserable time.
Before I left, and we're talking the 11th hour, I got some incredibly sage advice from someone who knows me better than I know myself. He told me to go and have a good time. Certainly I should be open to learning whatever comes along, but I shouldn't focus on learning so diligently that it prevents me from having fun. Does He know me or what?
I spent the hour and a half drive out there concentrating on relaxing my jaw. I'm amazed my teeth aren't all hopelessly cracked from the constant pressure they're under. I clench my teeth so much I don't even notice until I relax. It's pretty pathetic, but there you are.
The weekend was great. I had a fabulous time. I laughed. I talked to perfect strangers. I smiled at people I don't even know. And some I do know. I handed out my business card (mostly to show off my book cover, but oh well). And I did learn a thing or two--good stuff, important things that will make me a better author.
And now that I don't have to get up insanely early each morning, I know what to do with the extra time I have in the evenings.