I've had a busy panicked week.
I'm getting ready for the trip to Chicago tomorrow. We're leaving the children here with family, then friends. We're leaving the dogs here with other friends. It's taking some serious preparation and work from almost everyone who has ever shown up at my house for anything. And I still haven't called Lori -- but I did remember to get the birthday present for my nephew that will be delivered while we're away. That was important too.
But I haven't updated at all this week.
I am not getting very far with writing amongst all the other stuff. A page.
One whole page. (brand new story -- the short I mentioned I wanted to write, on gene therapy)
But Hubby nearly cried when he read it. That's good, right?
Otherwise, I've been panicking. My doctor gave me some Ativan for the flight so I should be able to make use of our half-day in Chicago instead of laying on the bed in the hotel room whining about my stomach. (She said it mostly helps people who are nervous about flying, not people who get travel-sick, but I said I would be willing to try anything, and right now I'm thinking that I really do get nervous about flying. A week in advance all I think of is the nausea, the spinning head, the feeling that my eyes don't focus any more.
But now I'm freaking. I've been scrubbing down the house. I've been shopping and errand running like we'll be gone a month.
Perhaps the Ativan is a good idea. Maybe I should start taking it now.