Monday, September 27, 2010

My Suitcase and Me... Not To Mention You

Are you any good at packing? I am not.

Whenever I am forced to leave my happy haven (and yes, it is usually by force) I make a nice little list, plan the trip out outfit by outfit, complete with jewelry, shoes and color coordinating eye liner. Then, I carefully collect each item and painstakingly pack it into a ridiculously large suit case. I leave for three days and I need a small whale-like vessel to hold the earthly possessions I just have to have with me at all times. It takes me several hours. I wander here and there, getting things in order in between painting my nails, writing a journal entry and having a snack.

It should be confessed that I am actually not a very organized person. I do plot, plan and list things but I definitely do it to the beat of my own drum. My closet/room is a disaster area. My desk is coated in papers, clothing, empty glasses, pens that may or may not work, the last three books I read, a pair or two of earrings, an assortment of Cd's, a few bottles containing anything from water to nail polish, hundreds of lists, receipts, gum wrappers and other bits and pieces I could have just thrown in the trash can that lives inches away with the same amount of effort.

When it comes to packing, there is no exception to my usual tidiness and precise organization. I make a list that I write sloppily, resting the paper against my leg or the textured wall, embellishing it with doodles and notes as I see fit. I wade through my closet and compare outfits and try to select something based on where I am going, who is going to be there, what I'll be doing, what is actually clean in my closet, the weather, my mood and a host of other variables that may or may not actually be in that order of importance. Then I shift everything around in a suitcase and find I've forgotten something vital, like pajamas or my toothbrush. So I find a pair of PJ's, but I'll need to brush my teeth tomorrow morning, so I throw a note to remember it on my list. And suddenly, I remember that song I've been wanting to look up online, so I run and do that. When I come back I reprimand myself to focus and throw some body splash in the case... but what scent? The Bath and Body Works would be good for Sunday, but they'll never work for Monday. And I'm still not packed, but it's 11:30 PM and I'm tired and we have to leave early in the morning... so maybe I'll just... Zzz.....

When it actually comes down to it (aka, we're leaving in fifteen minutes) I suddenly become an efficient packing machine. My decision time is cut down to one minute instead of seven. Everything can go in at once, because there is no chance I will need it again before we go. I throw in an extra shirt "just in case" (I live in fear that I will somehow ruin an article of clothing and have absolutely nothing else and be forced to borrow something from my Grandma.) I zip up the case while I sit on it to press down my sweater, hair straightener and everything in between. Lugging it down the steps, I frantically try to call to mind anything I may have forgotten. Belt? Check. Book? Check. Mp3 player? Shoot, forgot to charge that...

I shove it into the last available space in the vehicle (cute thing about having the biggest suitcase of anyone? I  also am the last person to have it ready. Meaning everything else has to move just for mine to fit.) and relish in a vague sense of relief and a not so vague sense of anxiety. I survived! I remembered my toothbrush! I can't put anything else in there now! What if I forgot something!?

Finally, as we are pulling out and the doors are locked and there is absolutely no way for me to pack/do/worry about anything else for the moment, I breathe again. Once begun is half done, right? We will be home... soon...

I wrote some of this on the eve of my leaving. So, in other words, I sat down and typed half of a blog post with my list at my side and a partially packed suitcase in my room. Shameful, I know. But I didn't want to leave without posting anything, which I ended up doing anyway, because I got on a roll and I couldn't bare to just tie this up prematurely! My deep failure, I confess.

I missed blogging very much. I would see things or think things or do things that just begged for a blog post and my fingers ached for a key board.

Well, no matter. We are reunited again. And now all I have to worry about is everything I left behind undone... not to mention my unpacked suitcase sitting taking up space on my floor.

Ah, it's good to be home.


  1. I'm awful about always forgetting the very most important things. (tooth brush, extra clothes). It's actually quite tragic.

  2. Seriously, you would actually borrow something from your Grandma?? What you have no sisters, your mother would be WORSE than Grandma?? This intrigues me. How often do your ruin a top?? :)

  3. Hahahaha...yes, Anna, i know...