I Feel Like The White Rabbit in Alice In Wonderland...

"I'm late, I'm late... for a very important date!" Yes, readers, I am losing it, but I do feel as if I'm the White Rabbit in Alice In Wonderland. I've been running around all day like a damn chicken with its head cut off, trying to get last minute things done.

Our bedroom is a wreck since I have all my outfits hanging everywhere, with shoes, belts & purses scattered about the floor. It's a veritable accident waiting to happen and @ this point it's difficult to believe that it will eventually all come together in my suitcases. Hmmm... we shall see.

Being the old fart that I am, I also have an entire collection of blood pressure pills, cholesterol pills, migraine pills, menopause pills, thyroid pills, vitamins and others to remember. It's truly mind blowing and I'm screwed if I forget any of them. I'm just thankful that these still occupy a relatively small space in my bag, as I've heard they require larger spaces over time, increasing at will.

Why can't I just be happy with one purse & one pair of shoes? Oh, yeah! I am woman, hear me whimper... if I can't bring them all.

Watching the HU pack, I'm getting totally PISSED OFF! I mean, he is only packing 2 pairs of shoes, several pairs of khakis, a navy blazer, several dress shirts, Hawaiian shirts, shorts, and jeans. Aaaaaaargh! If he asks me one more time why I can't get packed faster, I might have to hurt him. I mean Really. Hurt. Him.

As women & wives, it is our dubious responsibility to look good. If I don't look my absolute best, then it makes my hubby look as if he isn't a good provider, and he's a very good provider. He always acts like it's no big deal how I look, but I guarantee you IT IS IMPORTANT (especially @ my ripe age). I'm just around the corner from being spoiled fruit, which means I just have to work harder to look good. It's beyond exhausting, really.

Besides, there's always that gnawing little thought in the back of my mind, that if I happen to see an old flame, I want him to regret he ever dumped me, instead of the other way around. You know what I mean... yes, you do. You don't want to see a old flame looking like shit, because then he walks away with the thought "Damn! I sure dodged a bullet there!". Nope, not me..... can't do it, even if there is the slightest possibility of an encounter. I want to leave them (however significant they were to me) with longing & regret. Hence, the routine of maintenance & upkeep.

Hellfire, the time I spend on my manicures & pedicures alone would astound all you young'uns, not to mention the entire exfoliating thing. I'm telling you, at my age, maintenance is a full time job. (I have to perform most of these duties without my glasses on, so that I don't see the scary truth.) Gawd forbid I should ever let someone else see me during maintenance down time. It has become a very private ritual for me. As you can guess, I spend A LOT of time alone in order to keep to schedule.

So, of course, my medium suitcase is full of the tools & products that I need to maintain my look, which is indeed a very complicated regime. I always insure this bag for extra money, otherwise, I'd be likely to kill someone if it was lost. Diamonds aren't a *girl's best friend* at 55.... mineral make-ups & creams & lotions are. Oh... What am I saying? I'd also kill anyone that lost my clothes & shoes. We're talking about a slow, painful death here. I'm the woman you always see looking out the window of the plane, trying make sure she sees her bag being loaded onto the plane. I can't relax until then. After that, I'm good for cruising at high altitude.

I must sound sooooo anal retentive! Honestly, I am not! I just get a little kuckoo when preparing for a trip. George Carlin explains this better than anyone and he's not even a woman!

Once we arrive in L.A. and get checked in to the hotel, and unpacked, I'll be loaded for bear. Or something like that (I've been in Texas too long). I envision myself looking so incredibly good, that people will think I'm surely some producer's wife. Or something not even closely resembling that. Whatever. I can dream... Oh.... then I remember the bad haircut. *SIGH*

I'm sure that I'll have plenty of time to keep you posted, as the hubby hits the rack early and I'm left to my wandering mind, which clearly needs reigns. So, next time you hear from me I'll be writing from sunny southern California....