I hate road trips and so does the dog.

There is no way to make the 2,000 mile car ride back to Chicago from Palm Springs short. It's endless, it's painful, it's boring and it starts tomorrow. I've spent four days mopping, sweeping, washing, wiping, and vacuuming my way out the door. No cleaning service for this girl. Yep, I saved myself $90.00. It wasn't worth it but it's in my DNA, thanks Dad. I've given serious thought to wrapping my yellow lab in scotch tape so he stops shedding until we leave but I didn't. I'm bad with a tape gun. My dog hates road trips so I'm sneaking the suitcases to the car while he's not looking. "Sorry beefy boy, time to leave. And keep your hair on."

I want to thank my friend Emily for reluctantly offering to drive with me. She didn't really want to but I cried and cried until she gave in. I think I told her it would be fun. I lied. I was desperate. I thought about making the drive alone but realized I'd need so much medication I'd be asleep and unable to steer. I could have talked on the phone for the entire 2,000 miles but after day one I don't think anyone would take my calls. I'd be whining and complaining and finally friendless.

I'm set to wake up at 4:45 a.m. which can't possibly be a time of day. I tested two alarm clocks to make sure they're working which isn't normal but felt necessary. I have a list of things not to forget which includes the dog, given the early hour. Sadly, I placed my Arctic parka on the front seat because it isn't warm in Chicago until mid June or sometimes July. Crap. I think I need a drink. Uh oh, the dog just saw me sneak out with his bed and glared. I think he needs a drink. I resist the urge to fill his bowl with a nice California Chardonnay. I pour myself an extra large glass instead and decide to vacuum again.