Hella Stella

For a sick gal, I was pretty productive today.

I slept, on and off, whenever I needed to. That's probably why I can finally breathe through my nose and I don't feel nauseous anymore.

When I had spurts of energy, I cleaned and organized. I think my BH is fifty-fifty happy/sad when I do this: I'm one of those cleaners who needs to tear the room apart while I'm doing my thing. When I'm finally done, it's immaculate, dust-free and highly organized. But if you catch me halfway through? You wouldn't be able to see me for all the mess.

I'm about 90% done, and things are looking pretty good, if I do say so myself.

Shit. That reminds me that I still need to vacuum. It'll have to happen tomorrow, because my BH is passed out on the couch with Morty. That would be a crappy way to wake up...

Tomorrow I'm driving my mom to the train station to catch a shuttle to Montreal, where she'll then catch a plane to Italy! My dad is already there, and they'll be gallivanting around for a couple of weeks before they finally head home.

It's weird to think that my dad is in some random Italian city by himself; my mom is the one who usually takes care of planning, maps, contact info and finding food when they travel. He's only been alone for two days, but I can only imagine how it's been so far. He has a great story of doing Italian street theatre when he was a young pup, and his main job was to announce to the gathered crowd that someone important is coming. I guess he messed up the lines, because he told the crowd: "It's time to piss in the streets!"

Aw, I love my dad. Besides, any concerns I have for his safety are probably misguided, seeing as how he grew up in bike gangs and has a way of chatting people up, even in strange lands. He has some even better stories about Greece... Tales for another time?

All their Italy talk made me want to travel again, so my BH and I are going to take... A day trip. Because that's all you can do when you're po'.