Help Me Escape to Panama (Before I Lose It Completely)

Okay, so here’s the deal: I’m going on a much-needed girls’ trip to Panama from May 22-26, and I need your help. Because while I could stay home and cry into a pint of ice cream, I figured sunshine, cocktails, and pretending I don’t have responsibilities for five days might be slightly more therapeutic.

This is not just a vacation—it’s an act of self-preservation. The kind of “treat yo’self” moment that might just restore my sanity and prevent me from snapping at innocent people in line at the grocery store. Plus, I’ve been working hard, dealing with life, and frankly—I deserve this.

Now, I know what you’re thinking: “Shouldn’t you save up and be responsible?” To which I say: Have you met adulthood? It’s expensive. And honestly, I thought I was going to be rich by now, so this is awkward for all of us.

There’s no cap on how generous you can be (because who am I to block your blessings?). Whether it’s enough to cover a beachside margarita or the whole damn plane ticket, your support means the world.

Donor Rewards (Because I’m Generous Too):

• $5+: I’ll send you a virtual postcard and a selfie with a coconut.

• $20+: I’ll shout you out in my Instagram stories like the true VIP you are.

• $50+: I’ll bring back a mystery beach souvenir. Could be a seashell. Could be something mildly illegal. Who knows?

• $100+: I’ll dedicate a dramatic slow-mo video of me walking on the beach to you. Like Baywatch, but better.

• $500+: I’ll consider naming my firstborn after you. Kidding. (Unless you’re into that.)

So, help a girl out. Let me go soak in the sun, live my best life for a few days, and come back refreshed, recharged, and ready to tolerate people again.

Much love,

Robin E