I'm Outta Here

Lists. Checking said lists. Make adjustments to said list. Trash said list. Rewrite new list.

I. Am. Packing.

Yes, I'm one of those lists people. I'm so spacey I would never remember something as complex as socks if it's not written down. I sat up last night playing Mario making this complex two page list documenting what I should pack. Meanwhile I washed our coats, scarves (scarfs? idk..), swimsuits and what might be needed for the week's wardrobe. 'Swimsuits AND coats?' you ask...it's the Midwest--70 one day, 40 the next. Plus for the hot tub, swimsuits are a must.....no naked hot tub action this time; I know it's a bummer, but The Parents and children will be there. It could make an awkward breakfast. 

 Anyways--Packing. Usually I'd procrastinate and dread it until I'm late.... Today? Not today. Today I was up, packing and cleaning before 8am. Shocking, I know. The Husband is off taking care of business duties and Ashton and I are here packing and cleaning. I love coming home to a clean house after a few nights away...or I really don't like coming home to toys, dishes, laundry everywhere. Either way..clean house=good. I can not wait for this getaway!

One thing I'm not looking forward to: I have to give the dogs baths AGAIN---The assholes ran into the creep fest that is our woods. The woods aren't so bad...it's the neighbor that is 5 acres behind them. But anyways..both of my babies had groomer appointments Friday. They looked and smelled soooooooooooooo amazing. Especially since they were in bad shape. We're talking "did you get that dog from a pound?" bad. I should have been arrested for animal negelct. Anyways...they're trimmed, cleaned (were) and handsome now--no proof, no crime! Muahahah!  They aren't really dirty--just smell. Brats. I do have their food, leashes, crates, and toys packed...so the dogs are pretty much ready to go. Here's a couple of photos of my pretty boys:

This is Sammy. He's my baby. You can love him, but you can't have him. He's a Shih Tzu..Haven says you can't say Shih Tzu, because it's a bad word.

This is Oscar. He's a wiener dog. Original I know. He plays our less liked step-child. I try to really, really love him (I of course love him) but he ruins it by tearing up $300 worth of work supplies, peeing when I pet him, pooping by my car door, pooping right on the fucking sidewalk, throwing up on my rug....his remedial list goes on. He doesn't have it that bad... We have a love/hate relationship.





Anyways, back to packing! The next time I post, I'll be posting from relaxation. (Unless when my brother calls to tell me he wants talk "talk about something" it's something I don't want to talk about...for instance the pedophile granny he fucks older woman he is dating--like they're moving in together or he wants to bring her along. Hopefully he would have enough sense to save that one until after the holidays.--we'll save this story for another day.)