I leave for Portugal on Saturday and I am not ready at all. My normally immaculate desk is covered in case files and I have an enormous list of things to do on the home front as well. I keep waiting for the Motivation Fairy to arrive and show me some love but I suspect that she's sacked out on a friend's couch in an ill-fitting mumu drinking red wine, eating chocolate and reading The National Enquirer. On top of this, my neighbor continues to water his lawn at 5:30 every morning and, when the water hits the aluminum siding, it sounds like a race horse pissing on the top of a metal trash can. No one should have to wake up to that sound. In the evenings, he waters the front of his house AND my front door. I'm a bit past the age at which running through the sprinkler is Good Summer Fun. I might have to call in the Lesbian Mafia and have them come over and put a hit on his hose. Maybe the Mafia could also take out the young woman at Vision World who seems unconcerned about the fact that they lost my prescription sunglasses. She has confirmed my suspicion that customer service is indeed dead. When I reminded her that I was supposed to have the glasses a week ago, she said, "Huh. Well, I could reorder them for you." That won't do me any good when I am leaving in four days to go to Portugal where I will be sitting on the beach all day, every day. After a month of squinting, I'll come back to the states looking like Renee Zellweger. Nobody wants that.
It could be worse...it could be 90 degrees with tropical dew points. Oh wait a minute! That's the forecast for the next several days! On the upside, the weather makes me feel completely justified in skipping all that ironing I have to do. I can mark that off of my list.