I think that’s what I’ve done.  Good ole Mrs Everything to Everyone who can get Everything done in no time at all, strikes again.

We fly away for a 10 day holiday on this coming Sunday afternoon.  I take Thursday & Friday off work and book tradesmen in to strip, sand back and re-polish two floors in my house, the living room and dining room. But the rooms have to be emptied don’t they, so move back to Tuesday & Wednesday night, and we can get that done right?

Except Tuesday night I worked back until 7pm, got home at 7.30pm, cooked dinner, ate (exhausted), said goodnight to Hubbit who goes to bed at 8.30pm and found myself the lone packer and carrier of boxes of shite I had only unpacked two months earlier after moving into our new home 4 months before that.  Collapsed exhausted at 11pm on Tuesday knowing that all the big furniture items as well as the remaining packed boxes needed to be moved on Wednesday and secretly hoping that maybe my son J may be around after work to help with the heavy stuff.  Alas, as fate and excellent misfortune would have it, there was no J, he was working on Wednesday night so it looks like it’s just Hubbit and me for part II of the pack up from hell.

I travelled home from work Wednesday night, but had to pick up some groceries, so another night of arriving home at 7.30pm, but no dinner this time, because not a single extra box has been moved from the previous night (I thought perhaps something may have been done in the two hours between Hubbit’s arrival and mine…but not), and Hubbit needs to get to bed.  He’s in his PJ’s and in the worst “Fuck Off” mood, and can barely manage a grunt at me.  God only knows what I’ve done wrong this time I think to myself (nothing apparently), but I’m walking on eggshells while carrying boxes to other rooms.

Next up is 10 dining chairs – while carrying these and jamming my fingers between chairs and door frames, I’m thinking to myself, do we really need such a big dining suite?  Can’t we just start dining middle eastern style, sitting on pilliows on the floor?  The lounge has been moved out onto our balcony on the weekend while I was away, so I’m grateful for small mercies, because that monster weighs a tonne!  But there’s still two armchairs, with matching footstools, a couple of side tables, a coffee table, a TV & cable set up and my exercise equipment that I promised myself would not sit in the lounge room when not in use…ooops!  Most of this ends up on the balcony, and while 1/2 the balcony is undercover, I’m praying for no rain for the next few days, just in case it blows in and wets the furniture.  What didn’t fit on the balcony was moved out to the carport and the place looks like a right, proper shit fight!

But 9.00 pm rolls around, I’ve kept Mr Happy up for an extra half hour.  He’s kissed (chastely of course) and wished a goodnight and I can finally eat, because right now, at this point in time, I’m so hungry I could chew the leg off a chair.  Dinner of no more than 442 calories (steamed fish with vegies and a pretty mean salsa verde that I whipped up) and a bit of a stint on Trip Advisor and Google looking for accommodation and things to do on our trip and what do you know….but it’s midnight already and the Tradies are arriving at 6.45am…. seriously, I’m exhausted and I know it’s only going to get worse.

It’s getting worse because, She Who Can Juggle 1000 Balls, has organised to go to beautiful Daughter A’s house (drive for 30 min) so we can do our fitness test for our Week 4 Check-in for the Michelle Bridges 12 Week Body Transformation Weight-loss Challenge that we’re both on.  Bring it on ….. uggggh!  So fitness test about to start (midday), followed by cuddles of most adorable, joy of my life, Grandson F, and then it’s 30 min drive back to be at the dentist by 5pm, and then home to do more research on trip because we can’t do anything else while all our furniture is on the balcony!  It’s also beyond me to just let a trip happen, and wing it.  I’m such a control freak, I have to have most of a trip mapped out before we leave.  Heaven forbid that anything should be left to chance!

Tomorrow, the tradies will be back to finish the floor, I still need to mow the lawn, tend to the plants before we leave, visit my parents, attend a doctors appointment at 3pm and do the laundry so we have clothes to take with us, and I need to fit in a workout so I don’t finish my life as a morbidly obese freak.

Saturday is more garden work, tidy the house, finish the laundry, get the travel docs in order and then a presentation dinner on the other side of town on Saturday night.

Sunday morning is packing day and double checking day, clean out the fridge, make sure everyone, including the dog, are settled and know what needs to happen while we’re away, and then it’s off to the airport, which needs a 90 minute drive.  I think I’m going to need to sleep for the first two days of this holiday, I’m going to be so tired from trying to fit a week into 3 days.  Why on earth do I do it?