It’s dang cold and snowy here. That makes escaping to warmth more inviting, but also complicates the daily grind and last-minute errand runs. Two days before take-off. HELP! I’d like to fall on the floor and cry in my beer, but there’s no time, and not much beer, and beer would only slow me down and we CAN’T have that. Okay, maybe just one…
Snow is pretty, but makes for slippery slopes.
Ever have one of those days when everyone in your family is snitty? (And nobody is volunteering to shovel the new snow?) Tempers flare; the house is a train wreck; nothing works? That’s us. Except, it’s been that way for about a week. There is this sense of chaotic desperation in the air. And it’s amazing the things that choose to break down NOW of all times…
The kitchen sink backed up, and needed a thorough roto-rooting. Gross!
The freezer ceased. As in, melted ice cream and al dente ‘frozen’ vegetables. Ish!
The security system went nuts. Decided there was CO2 in the air and the alarms refused to stop. (I think it was wrong, but it’s hard to tell exactly what is killing all the brain cells these days.)
The Apples have been rotting. Needing new batteries, more RAM, updated iLife, iTunes triage.
More, but who cares? Thank goodness for supportive friends and Angie’s List.
The kids are excited, hyper really. Cute, but it can make things worse. AllBoy is bouncing basketballs, like our heads, off the walls–which just ain’t right when the snorkelware and Nikon gear is underfoot and M and D’s patience is kaput. CurlyGirl is packing 16 tons of Polly Pockets. Things are getting lost. Lists are getting longer. Breaths are getting shorter.
5 words: We’ll be on that plane. (That we just learned serves NO food and charges for ALL luggage AND beverages).
Countdown: 29 hours (til we leave the house).
Ostacles: At least 2 of us are sick; one goes to an eye specialist for an infection in the morning.
Biggest Scream: Airlines. They just keep changing the rules, and I don’t mean lifehacking.
Biggest loss: Holiday merriment. What holidays? What merriment? Maybe later?
Last night of good sleep: I can’t recall.
First thing I’ll do on the islands: A big Iowa Yee-ha scream and seek a Heineken.
Soundtrack ahead: Reggae. Tree frogs. Men yelling in Island Patois. Drunk tourists. Goats and donkeys. Roosters (all night long). Wind. Waves.
Note to self: Keep the faith. (“It’s all small stuff.”)