Whether I'm trying my best to not fall off an Icelandic glacier, or standing in an ice-cold stream in Austria, or watching a lioness snack on a zebra on the African plains, or (more often) just sitting at my desk overhearing 16-year-old girl gossip, every day's a holly-day for me.

Wednesday, June 8, 2011

Panic Napping

I should be in frantic-panic-packing mode right now. I'm actually in panic-napping mode. I just woke up from my becoming-much-too -regular afternoon siesta (yes, it's called that in Italy too). I used to work out in the late afternoon. Now I nap. The trade-offs for each are equal, although my abs would argue that point. Anywho...I digress.

My airport limo - and by limo, I mean Carly Cannon's Nissan Murano - is picking me up in 16 hours and I have not packed one stitch of clothing. I just woke up from a dream in which I arrived in Italy with clothes packed, but NOTHING else. No toiletries, no camera, no shoes except the one I wore on the plane, no nothing except a lot of cute skirts and every color tank top Target sells. And in my dream (operative word being "dream"), I wasn't the least bit panicked or flustered. Just as I am, at this moment, feeling no urgency whatsoever to get up and be productive, despite the fact that I am leaving the country tomorrow for two weeks with 13 teenagers of whom I am in charge. Where has the Type-A Holly I know gone??

I'm getting a little panicked about not being panicked.

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