I'm leaving for California in a few days. The Limey's already there, working. I'm going to fly out to Santa Barbara and hang around for a few days while he finishes up work, and then he's going to take a few days off, and we're going up to San Francisco to see my family.
(Despite living just a few hours away, I have spent very little time in southern California; in fact, I think I've only been south of Santa Cruz twice. I'm kinda looking forward to mooching around SB. Mexican food, here I come.)
But, before I leave, I have to get all sorts of crap done. I have to clean the house, set up everything for the person who's going to come in to feed the cat, pack, arrange for a neighbour to keep an eye out, do some laundry...aaargh, a thousand little things. And right now I can't even be arsed to make myself lunch.
Must. Get. Ass. Off. Couch.