I’m exhausted and so rambling. You’ve been warned.
I’m also pissed off at myself. I took a box out of my car, then put it on the ground, intending to bring it into the hotel room. I realized I’d forgotten the box a couple hours later. Checked the parking lot — it isn’t there. As well as the front desk. *sigh* Box had a lot of things that I’m going to want. Like my Aeropress coffee maker. And my favorite mug. My good coffee. My tea. All can be replaced, but still. Argh.
That kind of answers the question about whether I’m going to try to push and get to New Orleans Friday night, or if I’m going to take it a bit easier, and not get there until Saturday sometime. If I’m that tired, I probably shouldn’t push, right?
Kitty is both better and worse. Better — once we get to the hotel she only hides for a little while, then comes out and explores. Spends a lot of time exploring and sniffing. Doesn’t want to play, but will stretch out on the ground and demand skritches. She’s also eating and using her litter box.
Worse — She needs breaks now. The first couple of days she didn’t. Now, she insists on getting out of the carrier at least once an hour. I’ve started setting a timer, because she’ll fall asleep in my lap and we’ll sit there for 20+ minutes.
This means, for every 6 hours of driving, add another hour of breaks, at least. So that means if I pushed myself, driving 9+ hours a day, it’s actually closer to 11 hours of travel time. I’m so tired I’m not sure that’s safe.
I’m sure I have more rambling, but I think I’m just going to bed.