How Not to Pack

As I understand it, certain people are capable of packing in 20 minutes regardless of trip length or destination. It’s always taken me days and weeks, or several hours at best and even then I arrive wondering how I managed to bring along a potato peeler, a lava lamp, but no socks. What follows is a fairly typical packing experience for me, except that I procrastinated on purpose until five hours before I had to walk out the door. It’s still no 20 minutes, but at least was self-limiting:

Take out suitcases. Briefly consider cleaning out my closet, but settle for shuffling around a few things so the suitcases can be more accessible next time.

Put clothing into suitcase. Notice that ¾ of my pants are similarly colored olive/grey cargo capris. Wonder if I actually need that many pair and consider whether or not I have time for a quick run to the Salvation Army.

Run out to the car to get my book to read on the flight. Clean out the car.

Remember I’m supposed to be packing. Pack a few more clothing items.

Put a couple of the olive/grey pants back in the dresser. Notice a pile of papers on top of the dresser. Make a half hearted attempt at doing some filing. Settle for removing the bills, promising myself I’ll pay them before boarding the plane, and stuff the rest of the papers into my desk.

Remember I’m supposed to be packing. Pack a few more clothing items.

Clean up the remains of a paper towel roll I found in my suitcase and which immediately met the fate of all fluffy, white objects that enter my home: cotton balls, Q-tips, tampons, paper towels and the like don’t stand a chance against my two cats, who thoroughly shred them, distributing the remains evenly from one end of the apartment to the other before leaving them for dead. For whatever reason, only toilet paper remains in their good graces long enough to be used for its intended purpose.

Notice while disposing of the paper towel remains that the kitchen could use some cleaning. Scrub counters. Clean out toaster oven.

Remember I’m supposed to be packing. The kids have been packing for themselves recently, but I’ve procrastinated long enough that they won’t be home in time to pack and I’ll have to do it for them this time.

Realize immediately upon entering Cassie’s closet that their packing independence has come at a price: her closet is a total disaster. Go through her things wondering how she has even kept some semblance of personal hygiene about her – I certainly can’t tell which clothes are clean or dirty. Box up and label camp clothing and hand me downs that are still several sizes too large. Make a Salvation Army bound pile.

Look around for Cassie’s second Croc. Make the dreadful error of looking under her bed. Throw away most of the garbage…I mean prized possessions…I find under there.

Pack a few items of her clothing.

Go into Jared’s closet and decide it’s just as bad as hers. Clean out his closet, adding to the labeled boxes and Salvation Army pile.

Remember I’m supposed to be packing. Gather bathroom kit.

Put away some books that are taking up space in a bag I need to bring with me. See Rise Up Singing and start looking through it for recommendations the music teacher at my school mentioned she could use.

Remember I’m supposed to be packing. Find hats and sunscreen.

Stop for breakfast. Clean out fridge. Wonder if I have time to run a friend’s share of veggies from the farm co-op to her apartment before leaving town.

Remember I’m supposed to be packing. Start packing airplane snacks. Look inside ice cream maker for hidden chocolate. Find recipe for from-scratch-ice-cream using cooked instead of raw egg. Remember that some scrapbook friends had been discussing good cooked egg ice cream recipes. Bring ice cream recipe to the computer to type in. Remember I promised myself not to turn on the computer until I was done packing...and that I’m supposed to be packing.

Pack a little more clothing and do my “purse purge” (failed purge 1, failed purge 2), remove all liquids, knives, tools, and “other implements of destruction” and clean out my purse. For what’s worth, this time I managed to remove every last prohibited item except for two books of matches and a nail.

Move suitcases to the door. Notice that I’m taking approximately the same quantity of stuff for 8 days away as I did for several recent overnights away and also a 17 day trip. Wonder if I’ll find anything I actually need inside any of the suitcases when I arrive. It’s a good thing I travel. Otherwise my house would be a complete wreck!