T-minus eight hours. I am starting to panic about my family flying tomorrow -- have I mentioned that I don't like airplanes? I don't.
The house is clean. The house is super clean. The only exception to this is the laundry -- washing all the extra sheets and blankets I pulled out to use to make the futons really put me behind on the laundry.
The cat has been brushed, bathed and locked out of the room where my stepfather is going to be sleeping (he's allergic). He freaked out briefly in the bath -- he hates shampoo -- and my left forearm looks like I tangled with a badger, but otherwise all is well.
And all that's left is hopping off to bed and having a Merry Christmas tomorrow. Well, and about three thousand more loads of laundry.
