Hubby and I are leaving for New Orleans tomorrow and I really feel like I've not done enough preparation.
We have our flights and our hotel booked. And that's it. Normally we at least have a couple tickets to a show or tour, but not this time. This time I just plan to get off the plane, get to my hotel, and do nothing but whatever my little heart desires at any particular moment.
Today (my vacation day after Thanksgiving but before we leave) I had a whole list of things to accomplish. Productivity is my middle name, after all.
So I woke up at 8, and then dozed until after 10. Then I watched Ellen. Then I made the best possible use of my time and rolled all my coins - successfully adding $57 to my New Orleans slush fund. I bet you're day wasn't that productive.
Oh, but it doesn't end there. I showered, did my nails, and put some laundry in. Then I actually left the house (which had been becoming less and less likely as the time went on), went to the bank (struggling to carry all my coin rolls), and loaded my wallet with US cash.
Then I decided that I'd been so uber-productive that I could afford a few minutes for a quick tour of the shopping mall. But my good mood was effectively destroyed by a douche canoe salesgirl who I very nearly punched directly in the face.
I walked into a men's clothing store to look at a winter coat for Hubby. The little bitch approached me almost immediately.
Salesgirl, in her best obnoxious and whiny salesgirl voice: Let me guess! You're shopping for your... mmm.... boyfriend!
Me, avoiding eye contact and grumbling: HUSBAND. Thanks.
Salesgirl: Oh wow, I would never have guessed that. Heeehehehee. How old are you?!
Me, about to LOSE MY SHIT, looking straight at her: How old are YOU?
Salesgirl, unaffected by my attitude and as annoyingly perky as ever: I'm 25!
Me, quietly, while looking through the coats: Well, I'm 28. (The only time you'll ever catch me adding 4 months to my age, just to make my point.)
Salesgirl: Oh wow! You don't look that old at all! I just can't believe that!
Me, with my nasty-ass attitude: I don't know if that's a good thing.
Salesgirl, not catching on to my piss-offed-ness: Sure it is! That way, when you're like, 40, you'll only look 25! I wish I had your genes!
Then she proceeded to tell me about their sales promotion and I continued to ignore her, leaving the store with a pissy look on my face and shaking my head.
What the hell!? Would you ever just ask your customer how old they are?! Would you even bother guessing who your customer is shopping for? What an idiot. I hated this girl from the first moment her snotty little 25 year old face starting bee-bopping over toward me.
I manged to shake off her ignorance, and went to get groceries. I then made spaghetti for myself, Hubby, and our house guest. We're leaving for Hubby's concert momentarily.
I have a shit-ton of laundry and packing to do tomorrow morning before we head to the airport, but I'm still super excited.
I may post from New Orleans, at least maybe some pics, so stay tuned!