I head to Florida in 10 days. Not that I’m counting obsessively, mind you. (Yeah, right…) They really need to make a calendar app for Iphones where you can have the alert level vary depending on the importance of the event. A screen full of fireworks and an exceedingly loud klaxon alarm, for instance, when you have an event of Very Much Importance in your life. I’d set the dang thing for every day with a “T-minus X number of days and counting” message and then put a list in my reminders for what I need to pack that particular day, because right now, I’m sort of distractedly packing when I pass something in the house or studio that I need to take with me. I’ve got a good memory for that sort of thing, so when I go to do the final packing, I’ll be able to look at a box and tell you what all is in it, even if the items are all only peripherally related, but I have this sneaking suspicion that actually packing in earnest will make the stress dreams slow down or subside a bit.
Unfortunately, since most of the final packing will take place when I actually have the trailer (It’s at the trailer dealer still getting D-rings installed so I can lash some of my cargo against one wall or another), I’ve started a three page long spreadsheet to help me remember everything I need to take when I finally have the trailer in tow. I’m a Virgo, which means lists and anal-retentive little places to check things off of said lists. And stress dreams. Did I mention stress dreams?
Sigh. I love working for myself (love it, love it, love it!!) but I’m not so enamored of the weeks where it feels like I’m so far behind that my ass is starting to look small. (And that’s saying something…) And this whole month has been like that. I’m still sticking to healthy eating (best as I can), but everyday, it’s been gettin’ harder to keep from yelling at the top of my lungs, “Pass the damn chocolate!”