Enormous Changes at the Last Minute

Here are things I expected to do this weekend: rid out my closet; take the dogs for longer walks because the weather is finally inching from grudgingly-not-freezing to holy-cow-almost-pleasant; perhaps have a nice meal somewhere out of the way.

Here's what I'm getting to do instead:  drop everything; find a respectable place to kennel the dogs for a week; and fly to Florida on what amounts to no notice at all to teach a course because the scheduled colleague had to drop out at the last minute because of some piddly little personal issue.  Might have been an operation or a divorce.  Something like that.  I wasn't listening.

Bother.

Oh, I know that it sounds like an ungrateful thing to kvetch about, but really the timing is far from ideal - on top of missing the first few days of real spring, I feel very badly for the pups, who if Mr. Muscato were here could stay right home (not to mention that the kenneling is going to cost more for them than it will for me down in the sunny south).  I don't even particularly like Florida, and even if I did, the training room of our corporate branch there is not where I'd choose to spend a week.  The whole thing's a bore.

But at least I get to pack my swimsuit.

And I suppose there must be one or two good little out-of-the-way restaurants even there (and maybe even some good local seafood...).  And it looks like a half-way decent hotel...

Well, maybe it won't be the end of the earth.  I still feel entitled to complain about it.