The world is coming to an end. That must be it. There is no other reason to explain the strange feeling that has suddenly overcome me. I am afraid to go to Walt Disney World. Surely it is a sign of the apocalypse.
Now that all my weeks of hyper-focused energy have landed us a stay at Disney’s Old Key West Resort, I am paralyzed by the thought of actually going. This happening is absolutely bizarre, but there is some method to my madness.
GRAMMY’S A “GO”
Grammy is my mother who lives in South Florida where I was raised. She and I have a long, difficult history. While I am a Neurotic Disney Mom (NDM), Grammy is just a Neurotic Mom (NM). It is the “Disney” element that makes one’s neurosis an endearing quality rather than an unbearable one. For this reason, NDMs and NMs are worlds apart and often clash.
The last few days have been spent gathering my thoughts. I have acquired three WDW vacation packages that meet our needs, but it is yet to be decided whether they meet our budget. Joel will be the one to deliver the verdict on that. Since his lack-lustre mentality in regard to Disney does not incline him to favor “border-line” budget breakers, I am a bit fretful.
I have spent the last few weeks doing two things. The first thing I’ve done is consistently run into dead ends. No matter how I turn it, DH informs me that the small amount of money we’ve put aside will not cover the accommodations we need. The second thing I have done is compulsively view every last item in our extensive, free Disney Vacation Planning DVD library. I know that I must keep fighting the good fight, and the DVDs—which do an incredible job of creating WDW lust—provide me with the motivation I need to press on.