I'm leaving for Seattle in the morning. OH MY GOD, I hate packing. God, I'm terrible at it, too. I just know I'm going to end up on this trip with 800 Motrin and no underwear. Frick.
My cat is absolutely beside himself that I would even think of leaving for a week. I've been treated to all kinds of chilly behavior lately, and god knows there will be hell to pay when I return. (He is the lump underneath the guest bed cover.)
We've had terrible, cloudy weather here lately so I'm headed to Seattle to - that's correct - escape the rain.
And one more thing. What is UP with preparing to leave work for 6 days? I've been getting ready for the last three weeks, and it's still complete chaos there. Earlier this week someone said to me, "I hope your workload hasn't kept you from getting excited about your trip." I gave him the far away stare and realized that it's been years and years since I've been able to get excited for a trip. I definitely get excited once I'm on the plane, but I guess I do remember that there used to be excitement leading up to the trip, too. Anyway, this week and especially today was a just a blurr of me sprinting from one meeting to the next and trying to put notes together for someone to take over where I've left off. God. Business is so self-important, isn't it?
So I know I'll be overwhelmed with anticipation once the cabin door closes. I mean, after the anxiety attack, of course. Oh, screw it. I'm in a terrible mood, aren't I? HERE I COME, SEATTLE!