Stepping in to the supermarket today to do some shopping .. with no list, I thought. "Hmmmm. What WILL forty+ people eat at the party tomorrow night? Hoovers doovers? Cheese? Dip? Quiches? Pastizies? I just loaded the trolley up until Rocco's face was in the basil and the ice cream melted.
We are having a spit roast tomorrow night, with some pork and lamb. I'll make salads and pesto, baked potatoes .... and hope for the best.
I'm walking around from room to room, bedazzled at what needs to be done. So is Dave. We have not been social for so long the house went to shit .... he is installing a new soft-close toilet seat, weeding the veggie garden - all the vital things.
I'm off to transfer three piles of paperwork and clutter into a cupboard somewhere. Then shove my clothes in my wardrobe unfolded. Take food items out of boxes and pretend I made them, put some luxurious toilet paper in the bathroom, collect dustbunnies, etc.