I’m going on a trip next week. Which means I have to pack this week. Which means I have to get my ass up off this chair and actually move around. Can you imagine anything worse?
I am not a fan of the whole packing process. There is so much to do. And the indecision of it all. There are a ton of clothes in my wardrobe that I wouldn’t even look at normally but suddenly when I have to go for a trip I start thinking about whether or not I should take them along. You know, just in case. Just in case of what exactly? Maybe it’ll look better under vacation lighting. Maybe the cousin I am visiting will have something to go with it that will suddenly make this piece sing. Maybe, just maybe, I will start liking that hideous brown coloured top after having owned if for 7 years and having worn it exactly once. Who knows, anything is possible right? Wrong. I will never wear any of these clothes I am debating taking along with me on the trip.
I know what I am going to end up wearing. What I can’t understand is why I can’t just pack in ten minutes the things I need and know I might need and get done with it.
I envy people who can. My older brother for instance. He never stresses the packing bit. In fact, to this day, I have never actually seen the man pack. There is no movement in his room till a day before the trip and then on the actual day he has his bags ready. He packs at night is what he says. What an absolute serial killer move. Who does that.
I have to start a week before, as you can see. I have all my clothes – even the clothes I know I am never going to take along – strewn across my bed. I have combinations made up in my head. But these aren’t final. I will try everything on, then decide none of it looks good, then try some other things on, and then some more, then come back to the first few fits and pack those in finally. I might even have a few breakdowns in the middle of the whole process.
Accessories are another thing. I never wear any when I am at home. I spend most of my day in my room – either talking to you lot or making paintings – so I never have occasion to wear any. Not that I wear them when I go out. No, I look at them, try them on, put them back in and decide I’m going with the carefully constructed effortlessly pretty look today complete with bed hair. Which is just code for thank god for my genes because I am sorely lacking in the effort department. Right now I’m stuck on finding this one ring I think will go with that ugly brown top I own. You know, the one I don’t intend to pack in the first place.
Honestly, sometimes I just want a refund for my brain.