Bleagh. I'm so bad at taking trips. We're only leaving for the weekend (I'm going to the big Royal Musical Association conference in Cardiff, woohoo! Schmooze City for academics) but I'm feeling all the last-minute jitters taking over. I just finished giving Nika her flea treatments and now I'm not allowed to pet her for half an hour...Oh, okay. I know. I'm over-tragifying. But I HATE leaving her at kennels, and now she's giving me big pleading brown-eyed looks and I'm refusing to pet her. I feel like a Mean Mommy.

And I need to pack and clean and wash dishes and take Nika on her walk and take her to the kennels, and and and and and....! And I just wasted half an hour walking down to the village shop, only to find out that the dry-cleaning isn't finished yet after all, so I have to go back again later in the afternoon. (We're leaving at 4:30! Aack!)

This would be a good time to get an acceptance from somewhere. (Are you listening, Universe?)