This is how it happened.
On Monday, a day that even now seems like a life-age away, I was still at work. I finished a bit early, bid farewell to my colleagues and practically skipped out of the office.
I wasn't ready, I wasn't packed, I didn't have any of the travel vouchers I needed and our apartment looked as though a bomb had hit it. Actually, it was more like the bomb had hit a site where a train had derailed. No, that doesn't quite cut it either. Really, what it looked was, like a tropical cyclone had gone through, causing the train to derail, and then the train was hit by a bomb. Leaving all of my clothes unlaundered on the floor and leaving every single dish in the whole of existence unclean, all within the confines of our apartment. This needed to be attended to, but not yet.
Instead, Bear & I went to the pub.
We justified our pub trip, also known as procrastination, by having dinner.
As we finished off our meal, we had a call from our excellent house-sitter, and we toddled off back home to laundry and lunacy. The storm clouds settling in whilst we packed and cleaned.
In the morning Captain Obvious arrived to taxi us to the airport. We were on our way.