Six Days

There are six days before the trip starts. I have a day and a half to pack. For two months and two weeks. I've barely begun. I'm an idiot.

Wednesday night I finally got home for a few days and thought I would pack all this weekend. Well, yeah. That didn't happen. My fault entirely. I have this mind-set that it's summer and sleep is just kind of done whenever. Yeah sleep can't be done whenever (2 a.m. to 11 a.m. for me). I've been so unmotivated and just procrastinating.

It's awful. I really need to get a move on it. Especially if I'm doing some things with my brother tomorrow. 

Wish me luck. Wish me luck for when I go crazy tonight when I'm running on every kind of caffeinated drink available to me. Wish me luck for when I can't seem to believe that any of my clothing will fit into my suitcase. Wish me luck for when I get a little crazy thinking about eleven [sometimes twelve] people in a motor-home for two months. Wish me luck for when I realize how much time I don't have to be be-bopping through the clouds on my way to responsibility, when I realize responsibility is required right now. 

Will I get it done? Probably. Will I get it done in good timing? Doubt it. Will it be all right? For sure. 

Ciao. 

-G