Packing for parts (not) unknown

The trial has come. I knew it would, but it seemed so far away in August and September, and even October. But now it's December, and it must be done. I have to start packing. You know how I hate packing. I love traveling, but packing is the waiting before the oven until you can taste the cookies. It's tedious, and you have to mind the details, or you'll end up in India without your underwear or Chile without your hiking sandals!

I'm being a trooper, though. Home is my motivation. I can't go home unless I pack. None of Mom's tacos unless I pack. No trouncing or being trounced in card games unless I pack. I'm taking home my Christmas lights. I packed them because I figured I would need them. Somehow, I've managed without getting them out of the box. Fancy that! I'm also bringing home some of my books. Who knew they had libraries in Australia? Sandwiched between hoodies and my red pea coat, I also have some secrets. Some of them are Christmas secrets, but some are just ordinary sparkly secrets.

There are plenty of things to do while you're being distracted from packing. Yesterday when I was trying to pack, I ended up working on a logic puzzle instead. There are packing play lists to be made, laundry to be folded, all kinds of interesting opportunities crop up when you're supposed to be packing. Normally I would go the Who Wants to Be a Millionaire route and phone a friend, but as SG and I are sharing the phone and the bill, that's not much of an option. Usually, I end up sitting on my bed, absent mindedly reading through my packing list while listening to the most recent escapades of my nearest and dearest.

Part of packing is deciding the future. I have to decide whether I'll have an occasion to wear my beige peep toe heels or my cowboy boots or my puffy vest. How much room do I need for Christmas presents? Will I be getting books, which don't take much room but can be heavy, or will I be getting gift cards, which are only as light as the things you buy? Will it be a warm Christmas? Last year I was sunning in my bathers in the backyard on Christmas Eve, but yesterday Mom said it was 23F when she woke up. Who's to say?

Eventually the ordeal will be over and I will be happily sleeping a drugged sleep aboard a big Australian airplane flying over many bathtubs of water. Until then, I'll be fighting my all or nothing tendencies which would have me packing either a backpack or two suitcases and two carryons.

Yours truly,

Little Miss Sunshine