24 Hours to Go (I Should Be Sedated)

One thing that sucks about leaving for this trip right after work is I had to make sure I was all packed before I left this morning. I know I have forgotten something important. It can't be underwear--checked like nine thousand times. I don't know. It will undoubtedly be something really important--like shoes. But I will survive somehow.

I am done feeling bad for not wanting to stay with his grandmother too. He knows me. He knows that I hate to stay with MY family who I know and are fairly accepting of my habits. The thought of having to be Mrs. Perfect Wife for 96 hours in a row makes me shake. Actually 96 hours in a month is really pushing it. Take what you get sweet pea.

While we were talking about it last night he said to me, "She isn't like YOUR grandparents." Which pissed me off for a number of reasons. But the first is, don't attack my family. I know they are crazy. I know they are annoying. But honestly, they were pretty good during our visit and they only do that crap because they love us. Second, yes, she isn't my grandmother. So she doesn't automatically worship the ground that I walk on the way mine does. And undoubtedly she doesn't think that I am good enough for J. So maybe, just maybe, I want to make a good impression and it is impossible to be perfect for that amount of time. Impossible.

I admire that about J. That he never feels uncomfortable about that crap. But he has met my mother, does he not realize how I was brought up? Just because you are ultra comfortable with my family doesn't mean I will be with yours. Especially since I seriously saw your grandmother once, for about ten minutes. I didn't even remember her name. I got her and her mother mixed up.

Anyway.

All packed. At work with a huge to-do list but instead typing in my diary. Listening to Elvis. Eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. I might make it through the day. Maybe.

The dogs are not pleased. They saw the suitcases. I have a feeling they know that they are going to Grandma and Grandpa's house. They won't want to go. I can already hear it when we try to drop them off. They can't plead with you out-loud like kids but they get their message across. "PLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEASE Mom, we will be SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO GOOOOOOOOOOD! Don't leave us here. Grandpa NEVER feeds us. We will just DIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIE!" Nevermind that my parents spoil them rotten while they are there. They get two walks a day, big cookies (because my parents have big dogs and they wouldn't want to play favorites), their own pancake with syrup on Saturday and even though they aren't supposed to they sleep in the bed. That is practically a doggie resort.

And then when we bring them home they will crap in the living room to get even.

Why did I want these mongrels again?