My ride will be here shortly, and then I am off to the airport, in order to fly to Chicago and then drive to Wisconsin where it is even colder than it is in Utah, all for the love of Weetabix. And maybe also because I am a little dumb? That's a possibility. Really, it always is, for me.

There will be a sleigh ride (during which I will appear to be a mummy or similar), and all the food in the world and many drinks, and then karaoke, and then dancing, and then more food, I imagine, and then enjoying the vistas of Wisconsin, and then food, and then a bar, and then more food, or more drinks, or something like that, and then, coming home. The part I'm not going to enjoy is the part where I have to come home. The part I'm already looking forward to is the part where I come home.

This is kind of a bad time for a tripâ??I mean, I have a house full of boxes, my shower curtain is being held up with pieces of yarn, the cat is still kind of freaking out, I've got a shit ton of freelance stuff to bang my head against, and yetâ??this is a wonderful time to take a trip. Things are not going anywhere, and oh, god, do I need a break for awhile. I need to stop worrying about things and the future and doing everything right and not fucking up and instead plunge myself intoâ??well, social anxiety, where I will worry about doing everything right and not saying stupid things or fucking up, but it's a refreshing change, you know? A breath of air, a revitalizing switch of venue, and whole new and exciting way to drive myself absolutely batshit crazy.

It took about ten minutes to pack, and in my suitcase went every single warm item of clothing I own (as it turns out, I don't own many warm items of clothing. Ah, San Francisco). I managed to dig up a hat, and even some mittens. I will have to find a scarf somewhere. I am already wearing my long underwear, because Utah is similarly cold and to be in that cold, I need fortification. I need fortification in my own house, for god's sake. I have got two coats, which I may wear simultaneously. If I can cover myself in hot broth and then bake myself into a pastry, I might even survive. We are leaving soon, and I am so looking forward to it. And to not thinking about my to-do list for maybe ten minutes or so.