The Tale of the Pretrip Spazz

When I was young we would take these "family vacations" every year to go visit "family."

My mom would get all crazy. It would happen about 24 hours before estimated departure and everything she said would come out yelling.

THE LAUNDRY MUST BE DONE. THE LAUNDRY ISN'T GOING TO BE DONE. OH NO THE LAUNDRY!

WHO IS GOING TO TAKE US TO THE AIRPORT? WHAT IF WE'RE LATE? GET IN THE CAR!!

ABIGAIL, WHY AREN'T YOU PACKED YET? (I was never packed on time. Never.)

We'd duck, cover, and run for fear. And I swore, I SWORE, that would never be me.

I thought I'd made into the clear, I've completed several cross-country trips without being crazy.

But apparently a cross-country trip to the District is all it takes to make me crazy.

I don't think I said a single sentence today without whining.

My paycheck still hasn't come through.

My camera isn't working right.

Why the hell do I have so many clothes?

Does no one in this world have a hanging bag?

I was on the phone with Shepherd and we were trying to create the schedule for the week. I love schedules, I adore them, and I actually told him that I couldn't have that conversation because it made my head hurt.

We're going to try again after I get off the plane tomorrow.

But seriously, what is wrong with me? And no, Mom, I'm not packed yet.