I have no idea what that means.
I look like hell. Total, absolute hell. I can only imagine what the poor woman at the Ramada Inn front desk thought when I straggled in, my clutch shoved in my armpit and dragging 2 cat carriers behind me. Probably that I’d replaced my toner with acid and my mousse with bacon grease.
Granted, I think I reserve the right to look like something dragged behind a truck, considering that’s how I feel. I’ve only just finished driving 10 hours with 2 cats. I’ve stopped for the night in some tiny-ass town in Missouri, since the idea of driving the 16 hours straight through sounds about as enjoyable as having my ears gnawed off by a badger. But even just the 10 was pretty painful. For some reason I was unable to sleep last night, meaning that the entire drive was fuled by 3 hours of sleep, adrenaline, and sugar. And I find driving to be boring, especially across fucking Missouri. Plus cars have always put me to sleep, making it difficult to stay alert and focused. Add to that the near constant (and very angry) “mrow”ing that came from 1 or both of the carriers in the back seat, and let’s just say that the Remada never looked so good.
But I’m better now. The Ramada Inn has free wifi, (eat that Hilton!) and a little store in the lobby with munchie food and tiny health and beauty supplies that was able to supply me with grape juice and a fruit juice Popsicl. So now I lie in bed, treats in hand and cats on feet. Very soon, I will got to sleep. And tomorrow, I’ll wake up and do it all again.
I can’t fucking wait.