It Keeps You Runnin’

Got that Doobie Bros. song stuck in my head as I’m thinking about this evening. Note to Pearl: Honey, you’re in for a work-out!

The plan:
1) Dash home from work. Do a clothing quick change. Trade in Ladybird for Pearl.
2) Fly across the Mississippi to the MonkeyGirl’s house where we should *finally* be able to get me a disc from which I can *finally* print wedding photos. (The professional ones versus the few I was able to shoot. Being maid of honor meant I was IN a lot of the photo opps so it lessened my chances to take my own photos! Despite our best intentions, we have managed to flub this exchange on no less than a dozen different occasions. )
3) Head to Sewwhat’s, mother of MonkeyGirl, house. Pick up top-secret package. (OK. Semi-secret package at this point. Details to come. Stay tuned.)
4) Race back across the river and claim the mother.
5) Dash to Target in a neighboring town to assuage the mother’s most recent onset of non-buyer’s remorse. (You know, that “I should have bought” syndrome from which my mother suffers regularly. Sometimes I purposely throw things into a cart despite her protests because I’d rather not deal with this affliction at a later date.)

Of course, this absolutely cannot wait until the weekend. Especially because it’s these specialized type of Christmas hooks and everyone knows that the very genesis of life itself might cease to function without them. And, well, someone could come in tomorrow AND BUY EVERY LAST ONE OF THEM! *rolls eyes*

We won’t be able to go tomorrow night because it’s supposed to snow and you just know there’s no way that anticipated inch or two of snow could be gone by Thursday night. *another eye roll* (First day of December and the weather is conspiring against me already.)