I leave for Vegas on Monday and I have nothing ready. I haven’t packed anything. I haven’t washed anything. Hell, I still need to buy stuff for myself, Ross, Scarlett, and the cat just to get through the week. I’m in trouble. I can already see this mad dash on Sunday night to get everything ready.
I don’t know what books I’m going to take or if I even want to take them. This is a conundrum for me. I should take my laptop and write. The question becomes, will I be more stressed out because I’m working or because I’m not. This is how my sick mind works.
Here’s my list:
- new flip flops
- new bathing suit
- new clothes (because nothing fits)
- cat food (because we don’t have any and a cat needs to eat…apparently)
- Yogurt for Scarlett. You can’t imagine that child in the morning without her yogurt. It turns into an international incident.
- travel soap
- new underwear and bra (not specifically for the vacation but because, you know, I wear it every day)
- new sandals that are comfortable to walk in
- water wings or floaties or whatever the hell you want to call them for Scarlett
These are not small things. I should have gotten some of these things a month ago but when did I have the time? Never, that’s when. That’s why all of this shit is waiting until the last minute.
In the mean time, I’m low grade stressing and waiting for the weekend. #Adultingishard
Don’t forget to follow my exploits next week on the hashtag #TreatYoSelf