I had to document this historic event. As much as humanly possible with 5 kids, the laundry is all washed. And I am about to spread it all over the house in an attempt to find my stuff and get myself packed.
I have no idea where I’m driving to in the morning, so I’m probably going to need to remember to look all of that up.
I didn’t finish at least 3 important things for work. And I’m having a really really hard time caring. I want to care, but it’s easier said than done.
In an attempt to dethrone N from his reign as “King of the broken arm for Vacation”, I indeed tripped over roller blades last night (because naturally, the stairs are an excellent place to keep those. Why didn’t I think of that?) and bruised up my arm. Sadly, I didn’t even come close to taking his place. I hope this doesn’t mean that he redoubles his efforts while on the ship. I can see that from him, I really can. And everyone wonders why I have vacation PTSD.
In bruising up but not breaking my arm, I also managed to set off the inflammation response and trigger a good hefty dose of RA swelling in several joints, including the old football injury I suffered in my left hip. So, I get to start a massive dose of prednisone. And to this, I say, “Rock on!” By Tuesday, I will feel like a new woman, just in time to totally enjoy chasing the kids through random Mexican madness.
And sipping coke by the pool. The real stuff, not that diet crap.
The high life, baby. The high life. See you in reality sometime next week.
With internet running 55 cents per minute, don’t expect any posts from me until next Monday.
And until then, The laundry is done. Except for what we’re wearing right now. And the sheets. . .