Well, we almost made it to Sacramento this weekend to sell Scoob's car. Almost, except that we never left the house. And it's mostly my fault. Okay not mostly—it's all my fault. First I chose to sleep in. Then I dragged my ass getting ready. But what really did it was the fact that neither of us had given any thought to what else we wanted to do as long as we were making the trip.
It's a 3 hour trip there and back and that's if traffic cooperates. And seeing as how ski season is in full swing and we'll be on the same road as all those people heading to Heavenly, Northstar, Boreal, Kirkwood, Sugar Bowl, Squaw Valley, Alpine Meadows, Sierra-at-Tahoe, Mt. Rose, and Diamond Peak (and those are just the slopes near Tahoe) you know traffic won't be cooperating. So anyhow, I wanted to make the trip seem less chore-like and plan something interesting to do as long as we were there, but neither of us really gave it any thought and that's why we didn't go.
Now we're planning on next weekend.