Starring Sleep Deprivation as Mother's Little Helper

Jet lag is O-vah. Finally.

Yesterday Sparky and I headed off to Strasbourg to pick up the elusive toilet seat, an éclair and a quiche. Having been up since 3 am, it was relatively easy to start off at 7 am.

On our way back, we went TV shopping, had lunch with a very tired Hamish (also suffering), picked up the newly purchased TV, went home and cleaned and organized and vacuumed in some sort of speed-like fugue until midnight when the magic spell broke and we both dropped like the dead into our well made bed in our clean, clean room.

Phew. All that crap that somehow ends up in my suitcase has found a home. Even the gag gifts we got in our Christmas stockings.

So now it’s back to the regularly scheduled program.

The cats really missed us. I mean REALLY missed us. Scrunchy, who was named Zorro for our entire vacation because Mutti, who generously cared for our Christmas orphans, could not remember his name, has not left my side. Kiska, who was named Munzele, follows us around begging for touches and loves. She ate so much she looks like she swallowed an American football. Scrunchy resembles Tony Soprano he ate so much. And boy did Mutti love them.

I’m up and dressed and ready to go. I’m wearing my new GBF cashmere sweater, my new skinny jeans and my new j.crew slippers. I feel so preppy and peppy. Shaun lost a ton of weight and gave me his old cashmere, which I feel is only appropriate since he was the one to introduce me to cashmere.

I have to go ride this energy wave as there is still a ton left to do and god only knows how long it will last and this post sucks.