The sunlight and cheerful birds chirping outside my window eased into my dreams and started to tease my eyelids open this morning. Then, the thought hit: I have to pack. My eyes flew open and I stared at the ceiling for a couple minutes reviewing my itinerary.
Today: Walla Walla to visit a friend.
Tomorrow: Spokane to see and move the manfriend.
Which is where I will be until we drive to Priest Lake for rest, relaxation, and nature.
A day later: fly to San Francisco and see an incredible person.
Upon my return, I have a day (a day. One. Uno.) to rest, repack, and drive across the state to meet a friend and fly to Puerto Rico.
Puerto Rico was supposed to be for professional development, but I ended up declining the job offer...so I get to go be a tourist.
My return on the 27th semi-concludes my travel plans...if you don't count the family obligations in Tacoma, Spokane, and the Tri-Cities that take place throughout August...and sometime in there I promised to move my affects out of my parents' garage, who oh-so-kindly store them while I decide the best location for my career.
Thankfully, I don't have a house to worry about while I live my transient lifestyle. I don't have to worry about someone watering my plants or grabbing my mail. There's no "could you be so kind as to watch my cat?" (Granted, I would have to have a cat.) I can really just pack and go. Which brings me to the crux of my problem: I really don't want to pack and figure out how to fit everything I need for the next month into my car. Procrastination at it's best! I'm blogging instead of packing. I have one thing "packed", a pair of sweatpants, which i threw into a bag yesterday when I ran across them.
Despite my procrastination, I'm looking forward to my travels. And since we're down to the wire with an hour to dress and pack and load the car, I'm off with an adieu.
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