I've am felled by unbelievable apathy.
Which is a shame given the amount of stuff I have to do - in the next few hours at the very least.
I have exhausted my resevoirs of energy, seasonal joy and Christmas spirit in the last few days I think.
Let's see - each child has arrived home from school on at least three recent afternoons with an insurmountable project for next day, list of supplies needed for next day (just after I've been shopping, of course) or themed outfit, for (yes) the next day. How I haven't lost about ten pounds I don't know as the nerves have been a bit jarred to say the least. Oh wait - the Pinot Grigio probably counter-balanced the lack of nutrition. At least from a calorific point of view anyway.
As usual, I was apparently elected chief (only?) present buyer for the kids, which has bled me dry mentally as teenagers never seem to actually want anything yet never stop asking for money for this and that. How does that work? Oh and the job title also appeared to include chief packer of entire family's luggage for skiing trip to Colorado. (I really don't remember attending the job interview, signing the contract or shaking anyone's hand on this deal, I have to say.)
Last night the Ball & Chain and I took the dog to the airport for her Pet Airways flight (See previous post) to Colorado. I think she has inherited my fear of flying, as she whined the whole drive to the airport and pasted her face to the Exit door when we were waiting in the Pet Lounge. She also did a wriggly thing trying to get out of her collar as we walked her up to the (very nice) lady at the desk. Poor little thing. We've only had her 6 months and although dogs seem to forget things rather quickly, she did seem to be having flashbacks to something rather unsettling.
As I said to my mother (who also gave a very long "Ahhhh" when I told her of Dusty's plight) - it's not like you can explain what's going on. "You're much better off on this plane. If we flew you on our flight you'd be in a cage, in cargo, in the pitch black, thrown about and probably sitting on the tarmac for hours at each end in sub zero temps. Or DOR. (Dead on Arrival.)" It's a possiblity.
Anyway, back to the subject in hand - apathy and a pile of things to do. I'm flying with the Queenager and Little Man to Denver on Saturday, as The Ball and Chain and Man-Child are doing their manly thing of driving eight hours per day for two days to Denver and picking us and dog up. (At separate airports of course. Why would anything be uncomplicated?) Man Child walked out of the back door with swimming trunks in hand yet now they seem to still be on the kitchen island. He has also forgotten his French text book, which is the size of one of Moses' tablets. This now has to fit into my carry-on bag, which was stretching all definitions of "carry-on" in the first place.
The good thing about vacationing in the States is that I know I can buy whatever I forgot.
Will blog from Copper Mountain, if we're spared as my lovely gran was wont to say. (Not good for the white knuckle flyers among us really.)
Must go and pack handbag as have early start tomorrow.