The worst has happened: I've come down with a gastrointestinal bug and I spent the past weekend stuck in bed, curled up in the fetal position and unable even to consider being productive.
We pick up our RV next Sunday. Ahhh!!! There's still so many things that I want to do and all I can do is contemplate the list. I did get out of bed long enough yesterday to make one postcard to send from Black Rock City and today I decorated a white board that will hang outside our RV or shade structure for visitors to leave messages. Doing those things nearly killed me.
Mike's sick, too, but powering through. On Saturday he set up part of the shade structure in our yard and confirmed that he could put the whole thing together on the Playa. He's definitely going to need my help; I'm already contemplating what I'll use to bribe the children into hanging out nicely in the RV while we set up camp. Maybe I won't need to bribe them and the stifling desert heat will be enough reason for them to stay inside.
Right now it's not a good idea for me to think about how much work is left to do--before we leave for the Playa, while we're there, and after we return home. Nor is it a good idea for me to consider the possibility that our kids might think a dusty, hot art and music-type festival in the desert isn't as much fun as we think it is.
I am having doubts about our trip because of how crappy I feel. I suppose I could be thankful that I was sick this past weekend instead of next weekend, but what if I'm still sick next weekend? I hate being sick!
Really, things can only get better.
Oh, and look! Our camp sign!
