You know what I hate? I hate when I check all the web sites I read and nobody has updated, and then I think, “You know who else hasn’t updated? YOU.”

Self-awareness can be a heavy burden.

It’s been crazytimes over here. Work is so busy, I haven’t really done much else. Not a lot of reading. A little movie-watching. A little helping my husband pack for India.

Yeah, India.

Some of you actually know me, so it might not come as a surprise that, while I was single for a good long time before I met Greg, now that I have him in my life, I like him. I like him to be around. We might sit side-by-side on the couch while I write and he kills commandos (video games—what do I know?) and not actually interact for an hour, solid. But he’s right there. And not having him right there? I do not like it.

I finally heard from him this morning that he was there and safe. He left Thursday afternoon, and it took until Saturday morning to hear from him. Did I already say I didn’t like this arrangement?

I’m trying to see this time as time I can spend however I want. Apparently what I want to do with my time is take the pets to the vet and get a haircut. Those are my plans for this morning. In fact, I need to get a move on. Miss Mollypants (the cat) has a different vet than Miss Ursa J. Pup (as Greg calls her, but it should be Ursa M. I think he likes J. because that’s his middle initial). Different vets—what am I thinking? It’s such a boring reason, I can’t even be bothered to tell you what it is.

The order of business: Shower. Dress. Go get cat carrier in basement. No, wait. Back up. Shut all doors of escape in the house, and THEN go get cat carrier. Hmm. Back further up. Dress in something I don’t like very much and will change out of later after coming back from the cat vet. THEN go to get cat carrier and try to get cat with, suddenly, 18 legs into carrier. Carry to car. Listen to her bitch for the fifteen minutes it will take to get to the vet.

Can’t wait.