Climb for Hospice

The house is in shambles, there are always dishes to be done, the laundry is piling up, the floors need to be swept, I have no bathroom ceiling, it smells like dog in here, my office looks like a literary crime scene, the recycling is threatening to create it’s own nation, there are boxes to take to the Thrift Store, and I desperately need to wash the car.

I have to get a money order for the climb, traveler’s cheques for the trip, book my post-trip excursion, photocopy my travel documents, arrange transport through the various places in Tanzania that I need to get to, learn to sing ‘Climb Every Mountain’ at high altitude, and fund raise a little over $4300.

I’m on-edge, grumpy, feeling overwhelmed, overtaxed, underemployed, and underfunded. I’m frustrated, snarky, impatient, bitchy, exhausted and disappointed.

I have just enough time to want more time.

I’m not having fun anymore.

Tomorrow, I practice packing my bags and, just for you, I will record it here for posterity.

There’s a good chance that my brain will finally explode and leak out through my ear canals.

It could get messy.

It’s a good thing I’ll have a camera at the ready.