Easter: Part 1

Here's the story, of a crazy lady...who, after a sweat-inducing morning of last minute packing (an out of character move for me, an anal organizer) could barely remember her name, let alone the cameras (which I remembered 5 miles away) and the roast (which I eventually remembered 15 miles away) that we, on separate occasions, drove like bats out of hell back to the house to retrieve. My reaction was something like reenacting some bizarre-o stages of grief as I mourned my lost memory. The hysterical laughter was quickly followed by frustration, then lashing out at Rich, which was followed by yelling and then came the silence...and the inevitable decline of blood pressure and adrenaline resulting in acceptance of the situation and an apology.