Well, I still haven't packed. BUT, this is entirely normal for me. I am the sort of person who thinks about everything for days and days and days and then in the last minute, has an extreme nervous breakdown, screams and says offensive things, falls victim to some minor, yet extremely painful and avoidable injury, rallies and miraculously pulls out a big win.
I always tell my children to think before they act, so I am just living my truth.
In 24 hours, I will be on a plane, en route to London, most likely quiet screaming at my children, who will be complaining about the food while simultaneously unpacking (and misplacing) their things on the plane, while glaring at innocent passengers and airline staff with the "stop staring at me you loser" squinty eye.
One of them will actually say: "stop staring at me you loser."
Sorry in advance, whomever you are!
This afternoon, I came home after many, many episodes--leaving Chloe at the AT&T store to finish her phone upgrade with her new manny Jamil (he's wonderful and they really could run a daycare for young teens there!), enduring a very jolly and terrifying bank man who said, "WHOOPSIE! I almost made a big boo-boo! Let me get 7 people to check my work," and then getting my color refreshed (which is always a joy, however today I was not present in the moment of it all and instead was constantly thinking, "do not start screaming.")
I did not scream! However, when I got home, I told my husband I was feeling cranky, full of unthankful feelings and that it made me angry because I know just how fucking lucky I am. I am employed (by several wonderful companies!). My kids are healthy (and sometimes horribly behaved). My husband works hard at work and at home and at powerwashing (this is important in adulthood, I think.). And, I am going on the second "trip of a lifetime" this year to London to see good friends and walk the Jane Austen trail in Southampton and to see Stonehenge and Big Ben and of course, Pearl Jam (two nights in a row, like a spoiled, ridiculous girl) and to Paris to see it all, again, plus everything else I missed and to celebrate Bastille Day while watching the fireworks over the Eiffel Tower, meeting up with my wonderful friend and master hair refresher, plus our last French trip tour guide, Jo.
I mean why in the world was I so cranky?
My husband said it was stress.
He is a genius.
Then I asked him if I should get my nails done and instead of his normal sighing and huffing over these sorts of things, he said, "I think you should just go get your nails done."
So, off we went and the girls got a "french" manicure (they are so cute!) and I got a nap in (while they were waxing my eyebrows. I totally recommend being exhausted and stressed out and passing out during waxing, I could not feel a thing! Of course, the woman definitely thought I was dead. I woke up to her poking me and I think using the mirror to see if I was breathing). I got some work done and organized my work to-dos. Chloe and I made our traditional "panic shopping list," which includes shoes for her (she informed me that her only shoes are flip flops from Chocolate World in 2020). I folded some laundry and washed some more and we finished the ice cream cake from our July 4th party and I filled a million syringes with insulin for the dog.
I feel like I can do this! I can go to England tomorrow!
I still haven't packed and my list is gigantic, but my husband also said to remember we could just buy all new clothes (he's also newly generous, apparently) and well, one way or another, we are getting on that plane tomorrow, with children who will definitely be kicking and screaming (even though they are too old for that, but you know, tantrums keep you young.).
So, good night and good morning, friends! I'll be packing, after I think some more.