by MustBTVDay fifteen of furlough. I woke up at 0600 — early, alert, and fueled by sheer habit. Breakfast was an Einstein Bros. Bagel and the usual Starbucks White Chocolate Mocha, a combination that screams “family coordination in progress.” The in-laws arrived safely last night, bringing both reinforcement and mild chaos to the Living Room Republic. Operations have shifted from “maintenance mode” to “departure readiness.”
Today’s mission: New Orleans. The Family CFO has decreed it a well-deserved R&R operation, which I suspect is code for “you’ve been pacing this house like a caged bear for two weeks.” She’s not wrong. After a fortnight of oatmeal diplomacy, sock drawer governance, and digital uprisings, even I need a change of scenery. Beignets and brass bands sound like the right kind of therapy.
Remington, however, is not taking this well. She’s already begun her emotional pre-deployment phase — tail droop, heavy sighs, and strategic proximity. If there were a medal for “Most Dramatic Pre-Goodbye,” she’d win it paws down. Mittens has taken the role of indifferent stoic, while Tabby has started packing herself into any open bag that looks soft. The vet once called this “separation anxiety.” I call it “strategic guilt deployment.”
Curly and Moe will remain in standby mode under in-law supervision. I’ve left explicit instructions: if either one reboots unprovoked, it’s a sign of rebellion, not progress.
Morale check: high, with underlying exhaustion. Coffee steady, bagels plentiful, and New Orleans on the horizon. The Living Room Republic will endure in my absence — though Remington’s pending sadness might require a national day of mourning.
