When I think of vacation, I tend to imagine five star accommodations, room service, gourmet meals, shopping, museums, maybe a play or two. Sometimes I think of a luxury cruise with stewards and waiters to do my bidding.

Tennessee Smoky Mountains? Not so much.

But that was the plan devised by the family with a shrug and whatever by me.

Whatever indeed.

What I was not considering at the time was that:

1. It is July.

2. Mountains involve hiking.

3. Mountains go up.

I spent most of the vacation waving and saying God Bless.

The rented "cabin" was nice. The only thing cabin about it was that it was made of wood and was unpainted. We all had king sized beds and private commodes. I was able to rough my way through that with nary a complaint.

They did convince me to go white water rafting which was more like stagnant creek pushing. There is currently a drought in Tennessee and the rocks that usually lay unnoticed at the bottom, are now part of an obstacle course. Oh, don't get me wrong, we still had to paddle our asses off to get around said rocks. Which of course led to painful arms and shoulders.

So here I am. Done with vacation. All my nails are broken, my arms, legs and shoulders hurt and I have a sunburn.

Next time Club Fucking Med.