I Just Might Want To Go On the Cart


Butt kicking, day three. I had hoped (honestly and earnestly hoped) that yesterday would be the end of feeling like I was in the process of being run over by multiple trucks. Apparently not so much. On the positive side, no more vomit. But that's really kind of where the positives end.

Have I mentioned that we leave for Florida tomorrow? In the car? For two days? Someone shoot me now.

I am really, really, REALLY hoping that I wake up tomorrow and can at least pretend that there are birds, sunshine, and happiness somewhere in existence. (They don't have to be singing at me, they just have to exist.) Cause today, even after a nearly 3 hour nap, I'm just toasted. And that doesn't bode well when you have a husband who doesn't like to drive long distances and was counting on you to do the bulk of the driving.

If I keep telling myself "it's an adventure", do you think it'll become fun?

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