I know this will come as a shock to you, but I’m going on a cruise again. Like, in a few short hours. You’re seriously cutting in to my sleep time, but you mean that much to me, Reader.
We have a 7 a.m. flight. Gad, I hate 7 a.m., even when it’s taking me to the beach.
Wednesday night, I played a little game with myself and tricked myself into believing I was leaving this morning (Thursday) instead of Friday morning. To get myself motivated to pack and get 90% of my shit done so I’m not up til 3 a.m. with a 5 a.m. wake-up call to look forward to. And so that was a super-successful little self-trickery I played, because I muscled through the drudgery of packing and sorting and folding and just got it done. Yet for some reason, here I sit at quarter past midnight, still not 100% done. What-the-What, Reader.
But anyway. I had two giant suitcases on my bed that I was filling with assorted crap I need to survive ten days away from home and apparently my leaving is not welcomed by my girl Kitty Purry. While my head was turned, she politely climbed on the bed and peed.
The brightside is – yes, there was a brightside – she didn’t get my luggage or any of my vacation necessities. Just the comforter. And the sheets. And the extra blanket. And we were out of laundry sauce. Yes, sauce. One time I couldn’t think of the word “detergent” and told My Mister to turn on the washer, but I had already added “the sauce.”
We went tonight – in the midst of all my other getting-readys – to get more laundry sauce. And water shoes, because I don’t know what the heck I did with mine since my last cruise in October. My Mister found Beef-A-Roni for 80cents/can and his eyes danced and he threw eight cans in the cart. Dinner for him while I’m gone. Dining at it’s finest.
Let’s recap, this is a little ramblie.
- Despite doing 90% of the packing the night before, I’m still up at midnight not done packing. With a 7 a.m. flight.
- I’m somewhat gullible and fall for my own tricks, because I packed like a crazy lady the day before I really needed to.
- Apparently a 7 lb. cat thinks she’s the boss of me. And she is probably right.
- I will still love you even if you pee on my blanket. I won’t be happy about it. But I will still love you.
p.s. Don’t try to rob my house, Bad Guys. This is a girl trip, meaning no boys allowed, so the house will be protected. By himself and eight cats. Don’t risk it. You could get an unexpected golden shower. But either said boy or cat. Or both.