Feeling: strung out
Listening to: air conditioning buzz
Reading/Watching: These Three Remain, by Pamela Aidan

Recipe for Grumpy Katie:

4 hours of sleep, incl. nightmare
2 stagger-timed alarm clocks
1 hungry, whining, un-housetrained puppy
1 sleepy, grumpy husband
2 Chinese leftovers
12 hours of driving, divided

Begin with 4 hours of sleep. Stir in 2 alarm clocks, one at 6:30 and one at 7 for best results. Stumble to door to feed and walk puppy. Set aside.

Brew coffee, re-heat Chinese leftovers. Set aside.

Finish packing bag. Set aside; search for toothpaste (preparations for recipe should include husband packing toothpaste away the night before)

Mix coffee, milk, and chocolate for mochas. For best results, feed to husband and simmer in his complaints about how it was better last time you made it. Let irritation rise until it reaches maximum height, then punch flat again.

Load luggage into car, double-check hotel reservation number, driving directions, and location of toothpaste.

Abandon fluffy, recently-bathed puppy in kennel. Feel like a bad parent.

Drive remaining contents for four and one-half hours with sleeping husband in passenger seat. Negotiate Sistertown morning-work traffic, and finish last thirty minutes of driving amongst batshit crazy Dallas drivers. For best results, omit proper use of blinkers.

When grumpiness reaches maximum inflation, again punch down flat. Stop. Have lunch.

Resume driving five more hours, with a steady sprinkle of rain and occasional dash of lightning and homocidal 18-wheelers. Fold in liberal amount of small-town speed traps. Add lost-cell-phone-at-gas-station scare for extra spice. Stop. Have dinner.

Discover that Oklahoma expects you to pay a toll to drive on their interstate highway. There is no access road. Most effective when accompanied by a long, vitriolic rant about the greedy bastards who run I-44.

Optional step: get lost in Missouri on access road to I-44 and drive past entrance to hotel. Repeat step as needed.

For a final touch, arrive in hotel lobby at 9 p.m. exhausted, stiff, with teeth clenched to hold back hysterical sobbing. (this produces best results when the staff announces they lost your reservation)

Re-reserve, change rooms. Unpack. Lock rage in mini-fridge and let deflate slowly while husband goes to get ice cream.

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