The Barbarian Group had a company meeting a couple of months ago during which our gregarious and stodgy COO, Rick Webb, took a few moments to chew out the staff for not taking enough vacation time.

It’s true. At TBG, we work constantly, if not consistently. Even when we’re at breakfast, at a bar, in the shower, or engaging in all sorts of illicit activities, we’re thinking of our work. We’re consummate consumers, eating our own dog food at every turn. Sure, we play a lot of Wii, we work on personal projects, we “work from home” all too often, and we enjoy the slow periods as though they might disappear forever.

What we don’t do often enough, as per Rick’s scolding, is step away.

Perhaps those of us who lived through the late nineties are frightened the company won’t be around upon our return (not likely). Maybe we’re scared our peers will surpass us in our absence (highly likely). Maybe we’re just plain addicted (definitely).

Well, I’m not gonna get in trouble this year. I’m shooting for a week off per quarter. Only… I’m blowing the first quarter already. I digress.

Michele, my lovely wife, is “with child.” This wonderful fact precludes her from enjoying our mainstay indulgences: good food, good wine, assloads of cocaine. Given that she’s unable to consume unpasteurized dairy, cured meats, rarer poultry, and nearly all fish, we’ve decided that the best destination for my first-quarter vacation and our last pre-child excursion is a supremely high-end restaurant and inn near our second-favorite city in the universe.

We’re going to The Inn at Little Washington.

I’ll wait for the foodies/chowhounds to curse us for a few moments.

Sure, Michele can’t eat or drink anything. She can’t have the sommelier pair every bite with a different wine. She can’t have a spicy port with her dessert.

So what’s in it for her? On what will her ravenous body feast? What will satiate her burning appetite?

I dunno, but I’ll be soaking in a hot bath, full of spirit and food, listening to crickets, only peripherally aware of my surroundings and unable to defend myself.

All according to plan…