Branch Monster's Travelogue, Star Date - yet to be calculated
Because I am ambitious and I like doing things the hard way, I decided to make my own dress. I was up until almost 3AM working on it and I still need to attach the skirt to the top, install the zipper and hem the skirt. The makings are in my suitcase along with a backlog of birthday, Christmas and wedding presents. My nephew will grow up thinking that “Auntica” visits mean gifts galore! Still, I had to work today and it’s already a tight squeeze between my escape from the office and my subsequent imprisonment on an aircraft. I was not made to travel except by my own kinetic energy. Most other means of getting around simply get me sick.
At present, I am under-slept (and underpaid and overworked). Leaving home has always been a very difficult accomplishment for me and my exhaustion has only contributed a whiny outlook on my travels. This is not to say I do not look forward to the visit. The visit will be great. Getting there troubles me. Somewhere between hauling a minimally-packed suitcase and carry-on bag from the annex to the airport, smash-n-grabbing Booster Juice with my BFF while I give her my keys to look after my furry four-legged babies and their finny, fishy cousins and giving airport security personnel something to feel superior about (I maintain that airport security personnel love the exhausted, spaced-out and dumb travelers because it makes them feel important), I anticipate a great longing to burst into tears while sobbing “I wanna go HOOOOOME!” I will miss my ....Toronto.... lifestyle, the privacy of my living space, much of my independence, my BFF and my BF.
Of course, I will be sad to leave BC, too. It’s a short trip. The grass is always greener.
At present, I am under-slept (and underpaid and overworked). Leaving home has always been a very difficult accomplishment for me and my exhaustion has only contributed a whiny outlook on my travels. This is not to say I do not look forward to the visit. The visit will be great. Getting there troubles me. Somewhere between hauling a minimally-packed suitcase and carry-on bag from the annex to the airport, smash-n-grabbing Booster Juice with my BFF while I give her my keys to look after my furry four-legged babies and their finny, fishy cousins and giving airport security personnel something to feel superior about (I maintain that airport security personnel love the exhausted, spaced-out and dumb travelers because it makes them feel important), I anticipate a great longing to burst into tears while sobbing “I wanna go HOOOOOME!” I will miss my ....Toronto.... lifestyle, the privacy of my living space, much of my independence, my BFF and my BF.
Of course, I will be sad to leave BC, too. It’s a short trip. The grass is always greener.