Race against the clock

Panic set in today for real. I am leaving in Houston in one week, and not coming back until May. Ack! And in my remaining week here, I have to sell my car, ship clothing to Vienna and Christmas supplies to New York, visit dentists and doctors (since my "in-network providers" will soon be far far away), clean up my Butterfly score and my desk, pack, and visit with all my favorite Houstonians. Oh, and find a place to live in Manhattan for when I get there (DID I MENTION THAT'S IN ONE WEEK?!?).

Sometimes in the face of that kind of pressure I buckle down, crossing off entire to-do lists in one fell swoop, becoming a super-productive version of myself, all with a beaming smile on my face.

This is not one of those times.

In fact, my response to the mounting panic has thus far been to do absolutely nothing. It has become vitally important, for example, to watch every last item in my Hulu queue. And did you know that Better Off Ted is now streaming on Netflix? Neither did I, but now that I do, in my spare time I will be watching every single episode, while doing my best slug impression.

I can't get off the couch, people. It's a problem. Thank goodness this week I have 5 performances and numerous social engagements, because otherwise I might never even sum up the energy to shower. (And lord knows I'm not making the effort to do my hair - ponytails for all!)

It might be time for an intervention. Consider this my official, undisguised cry for help.