Saturday, November 24, 2012

I've chosen steak and pizza as my last American meals...and maybe 12 pounds of peanut butter M&Ms.

In 24 hours, I will be on a plane!!!

Yeah, it has become impossible to sleep. I perpetually have that "I'm going to Disney World!" excitement, and my brain wakes up every couple of hours asking "IS IT TIME???" And then there are  the dreams. Here's my favorite:

New robotic prosthetic arms have been developed, and I've signed up to have my arms amputated to try them out. But before that happens, I get very anxious about the brief period during which my arms will have been amputated, but I won't yet have my killer robo arms. Here's the crux of my worry: HOW DO YOU GO TO THE BATHROOM WITHOUT ARMS? But, ever the problem solver, I find one of the occupational therapists at work (of course I pick the creeper), and he shows me how in the awkwardest dream sequence EVER. I'll tell you this: it involves using the little nubs on the bottom of the toilet seat to get your pants off. Horrifying. But once I got the hang of it, I was ready for my upgrade. Ta-da!!

What a bizarre yet perfect metaphor for this process and how I feel about so much of it. Though now I worry about that part of my mind that constructs these metaphors...what is she thinking??? REALLY.

At this point, all I have left to do is to make sure my three suitcases are down to 70 pounds or less...and since one of them weighed in at a hefty 82 pounds yesterday, all my Tetris skills are being challenged. Who knew candy was so heavy? (Ha...I jest...I DID.) Spending my last day eating candy wouldn't be the worst thing in the world. And it wouldn't be the first time. But seriously, is this not the most beautiful carry-on bag ever?

Oh, and if ever you hear yourself thinking "I'll only be outside for 5 much trouble can one little dog get into in 5 minutes?" then STOP. They delight in testing this kind of idiocy. In 5 minutes, a determined dog can find a ziplock bag full of mini candy bars, bite a hole in it, unwrap and eat 3 of said candy bars, doing all of it on your white bedsheets and freshly dry-cleaned beige coat. And then have the nerve to look lovably sheepish so you don't sell his sorry self to the neighbors. We had a serious talk about it, but I question the genuineness of his remorse. Behind his guilty puppy act, there was clearly a glimmer of "Go outside again, lady, and see what happens."

Okay, well, I've gotta go...I hear my darling nephew stirring and I'm going to get in all the snuggle time I can today.
Until next time...from Tokyo!! GANBARIMASU!!!

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