in which a suitcase is packed
Tomorrow morning, I'm going to get into a giant aluminium tube and fly across the continent to America's Wang. Then, on Sunday, I'll get on a boat and spend a week doing nerdy stuff with nerds in the middle of the ocean. It should be pretty awesome.
Earlier today, I folded my laundry, and put it on the bed. I laid out the various items of clothing I need to take with me on the cruise next week, carefully considering what nerd T-shirts would make the cut, and which ones would have to stay home.
I took my suit, and a clean white dress shirt out of the closet. I walked around the room, trying to find a place to hang them up. When I realized there wasn't a place to hang them up, I carefully laid them on the bed.
"The cats aren't in the house, so this will be fine here for a few minutes," I thought to myself.
I went into my office, and prepared my backpack: I took out some things I didn't need, including an old call sheet, and realized that the last time I took this backpack anywhere, I was working on Eureka. I had a little bit of a sad. I put some books in a pocket next to my Kindle. I put my bag of dice inside, and grabbed a couple of small, social games: Werewolf, Resistance, Fluxx, and a couple of Button Men, just in case. I printed out my performance setlist and put it into the pocket where I'd usually put my laptop. (My laptop is staying home, because the Internet on the ship costs eleventy billion dollars a second, and I'd rather read books, play games, and relax in the sun with my friends and family than hang out online, where I spend pretty much all of my free time when we're home.
I made sure my various chargers, extra batteries, headphones, and other nerd essentials were in their proper place. Then, having confirmed that I had everything I would need to entertain myself and survive a zombie apocalypse, I headed back into my bedroom to load up my suitcase.
My black cat was sleeping in the middle of my white dress shirt. My black and white cat was sleeping on my black kilt.
"Are you fucking serious, you guys?" I said.
The cats did not reply. One of them rolled over and purred enthusiastically, while the other put her ears back and flicked her tail.
I sighed. "Okay, get up," I said. "These are going back into the closet until I pack them."
The cats let me know that they were very displeased with me, in the usual manner. I let them know that I would get over it, in the usual manner.
I hung up my fancy clothes, and put my normal clothes into my suitcase. The cats glared at me from the floor.
"You'll get over it," I said.
That's when I realized that I was alone in the house, and talking to my cats.
...turns out that this is the perfect time to take a working vacation.
