So I'm on vacation in Yellowstone last week, staying at the ancient, timbered icon known as Old Faithful Inn -- a family favorite. It was a final few days of summer with my wife and son, before he heads back to school. The twisting, warm-water chute at Firehole Falls was as exciting (and rocky) as ever. The hot springs, geysers and paintpots were as wonderfully mesmerizing the umpteenth time I saw them as the first. The buffalo were still wandering in the middle of the road. The rainbows remained parked over the dramatic Lower Falls. And the Inn itself was as quaint and comfortable as I remembered from previous visits.
Stupid, stupid, stupid. Suddenly I was no longer in a volcanic wonderland, I was mentally at my office confronted by an irate client who was incensed about an estimate for TV production. My heart sank, my stomach wobbled, and my mind became overwhelmed with worry. In a flash, the hot pots weren't so hot, nor the geysers so great.
Modern portable technology had invaded my idyllic getaway. It was my own fault, I realize that. Sure, I have that phone in order to be easily accessible, and to be constantly in communication. But "constant" should not include my vacation.
Fortunately, my wife talked be down off the ledge, calmed my heart, and rehashed Dale Carnegie principles I could use with the client upon my return. But in the process, I learned my lesson: Keep the vacation and business silos separate. A vacation is supposed to refresh me, to make me giddy to return to the Richter7 advertising chores at hand. I almost blew it. Thankfully, I can still hear the Canadian geese honking on the Madison River's banks.