I'm going back to Ye Olde Homesteade for almost two weeks tomorrow for back to back wedding weekends (I'm in both of them.)

The plan was tonight to meet up with a friend at a local bar for post-birthday drinks, snuggle with Mr. PKB, do the dishes, and pack. Instead, I went straight to the ER because my father-in-sin was having some issues. He's all good know, and I think this will prompt a move into a facility where he can focus on living life and not on feeding himself, etc, as he's the kind of guy who eats to live and would not know what to do with kale if it punched him in the face. (Parkinson's is a bitch.)

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So I got home three hours later than usual, I'm super tired, pizza is on the way, and I have got to fucking pack. I can do the dishes tomorrow, but I'm going to work for a half day and there is no other time to do it.

But all I want to do is drink leftover birthday champagne and sleeeeeeeeep.