It seems to be about 18 hours until I need to leave my house.
This afternoon, before working out the number of hours remaining, and being occasionally prone to bouts of unrealistic optimism, I told myself that I was doing pretty well. I'd accomplished a few things including approximately one hundred and thirty four listens to Monologue, transferring some music on to my phone, realising I don't own any sensible clothes or shoes for the forthcoming trip, and repeatedly telling the bunnies that I'm going to miss them (all important pre-holiday tasks).
I sidestepped delicately around the fact that I had not yet managed to pack anything other than jewellery and a fancy dress costume, check out any of the places we're going, or convince myself that I know where our accommodation is.
Reality started to kick in when I got home after a quick cup of tea at my friend's house, which somehow turned into several cups of tea, a glass of wine, and dinner, to find that the packing had not miraculously done itself. You might think that the obvious thing to do would be to pack... Instead I listened to Monologue a few more times. By then it seemed too late to start packing so I told myself I'd have an early night... and spent a couple of hours on the internet.
This afternoon, before working out the number of hours remaining, and being occasionally prone to bouts of unrealistic optimism, I told myself that I was doing pretty well. I'd accomplished a few things including approximately one hundred and thirty four listens to Monologue, transferring some music on to my phone, realising I don't own any sensible clothes or shoes for the forthcoming trip, and repeatedly telling the bunnies that I'm going to miss them (all important pre-holiday tasks).
I sidestepped delicately around the fact that I had not yet managed to pack anything other than jewellery and a fancy dress costume, check out any of the places we're going, or convince myself that I know where our accommodation is.
Reality started to kick in when I got home after a quick cup of tea at my friend's house, which somehow turned into several cups of tea, a glass of wine, and dinner, to find that the packing had not miraculously done itself. You might think that the obvious thing to do would be to pack... Instead I listened to Monologue a few more times. By then it seemed too late to start packing so I told myself I'd have an early night... and spent a couple of hours on the internet.