I can't go anywhere !

Today's my last work day (and my final day of school holidays...YAY!)
and then tomorrow is the day we head to Melbourne for the concert ... and some sweet, sweet time with Miz K.
But, as I was drinking my first cuppa of the day and gazing at the fading stars up in the sky, it hit me.

I can't go anywhere.

I have heaps (and I mean heaps) of laundry to fold, another load or two of washing to do, vacuuming, dusting, scrubbing down the kitchen, legs to shave and feet to chisel the dead dry skin off of.
I have cat boxes to wash and disinfect, cat litter to buy, tissues to stock up on because this chest cold has moved to my head and although it''s basically run it's course, I don't want to have to use my guys' shirt tails in an emergency.
I have floors to mop and bills to pay and time-sheets for work to still process and drop at the office, if I want to have any hope at all of getting paid in the next month.

I still have the spare fridge sitting out on the middle lawn, that needs to be given a final wipe-out and put back in the shed and a 4 foot tall Gum tree to plant because with the upcoming 2 days of 40C /104F temps, the poor little thing will die if it's left in it's plastic pot, with no water.
Which reminds me... I'll need to leave extra water outside for the cats and to leave a note to remind Kay that she'll need to top it up, when she comes to feed the cats and let them out.

And on top of it all, today's a work day and I will have 6 little rug rats expecting me to act like I'm doing my job. The parents tend to think that while their littlies are here, I should forsake all personal stuff and dedicate myself to their progeny. Funny, that.

I think I feel a headache comin' on.
*sigh*

Update...
Well, I got the tree planted and and it's happy as a clam... and everything got throughly watered. But Shhhh... don't tell the water police. I figure I'll be saving 2 showers worth of water while I'm gone, so I decided to share it with the plants.

I also got the ol' legs shaved while I was in the shower and discovered that while I have a perfect left leg, the right one looks like a Rand McNally road map. What's up with that?
I walk on both legs and both legs get the same amount of exercise, so why does one have varicose veins and the other look like the leg of a 20 year old? It sucks weinies, I tell ya.
And I saved the leg hair too. I figure if they ever need to make a chest-hair wig for Tom Selleck, I might be in the money.

One load of laundry's folded and another couple to go, but I will get there.
Or die tryin'.