Bout dat life

This weekend a few friends of mine are coming down from Auckland for a "girls weekend" in Welly. That's how tragic my social skill are, that after 4 years of moving to Wellington I'm still a loner, and I have to either fly to Auckland to see people or have them fly down to visit me. PA-thetic.

So, now to the weekend. The thought of trying to plan activities for the weekend, and then plan for the kids while I'm not around, it's so draining. To be fair, I should really just leave it to the man and trust that he and the clones will be alive when I return. And the girls are so low-maint and Wellington is relatively easy to get around and fuss free. So what the hell am I worried about??

The real problem is that I'm so hermatised (new word!) that the mere thought of leaving the house to do something potentially fun is setting all the alarm bells off. Again, pathetic! Besides, I just received the rest of the Ender's quintet books and I could just read for days ...

So I'm trying to psych myself up:

• I get to chat and gossip for hours with the girls
• Hell, I get to talk in normal adult-speak and not a baby voice or in scolding lingo
• I get to wear as uncomfortable an outfit as I want
• I get the option of eating out at an establishment that doesn't need to have highchairs, a kids' menu or wide tables in case of swinging baby arms/thighs or flying bottles
• I get to moan about how sleep-deprived I am. Oh wait, I do that right now ...

I'm tired just thinking about it. And I'm so sleep-deprived! Sorry Miley, but we is not bout dat life.