7:11 and I’m not getting ready for work, but I should be. . .

I’m supposed to be getting ready for work, and for a meeting after work.

I just can’t do it.  All I want to do is sit here, write a bit and then go work in my gardens.

The house is a flippin’ mess — I’ve tried, really tried all week to be a good house keeper, but it’s a losing battle.  At least we eat.  And clean up the dishes.  The rest of it will just have to wait until I’ve got the time and the need.

Thank God I’ve got tomorrow off.  Have great gardening plans — the weeds have staged a rebellion and I must get out there with my guillotine!  The rain better hold off until I’m done.  (Sorry Heather.)

Our keys to the apartment in New York came yesterday, along with our tickets to Wicked.  Three weeks from today me, two of my sistahs and a sistah-in-law will be in the Big Apple.  Five days of frivolity, fun, food and fantasy.  Cannot wait.

Well, I really must stop this and get moving.  Huge sigh.

Tomorrow can’t come fast enough.


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