verbicide: (random)
[personal profile] verbicide
I love it when I treat myself like a sulky four-year old.

"No, no, we're not packing tonight, because we hate packing. But just take the pjs out of the drawer, because otherwise you'll forget them. And where's that cami--is it in the laundry?"

And I kept tossing things on the bed, until it became obvious that if I wanted to sleep on said bed, I would have to put the things elsewhere. And why not the convenient duffel bag I'm hauling to LA?

So this morning wasn't as crazy as I was trying to set it up to be.

Things are now packed. Trying to decide if I need to take Timbuk, because everything has fit in the duffel bag. Hrm. I think I'm going to take it. It'll be useful to cart around as a bag while in LA.

I can't believe I'm going tonight.

Cat litter's changed. Left Jeff instructions on fridge. Printed boarding pass.

Just need to put away dishes in washer and load remaining few items, and I think I'm done. Huh.

In weird news, The Universe clearly thinks that Jeff and I need to talk more. My phone rang this morning, it was Jeff's office line. After much 'hello, hello?' I gave up and disconnected, and then immediately called him back. He answered with no obvious indication that he needed to talk to me. Apparently his office line rang, there was no one there, and then he, too hung up. And then I called back. WTF, over?
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verbicide

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