Packing, it occurs to me, would likely be significantly easier if I remembered to launder and - in some cases - unearth the items I wish to pack prior to the actual event.
Particularly when I am packing the night before an early morning trip, because I am not a morning person and I am even less of a morning person when I have to pack instead of drinking coffee and choosing shoes.
Having spent my evening having an entirely enjoyable meal with my friend Margaret in town, which may just possibly have involved us splitting a bottle of red and giggling like lunatics, I am even less inclined to pack, launder, unearth or generally do anything other than lounge around watching TV and "writing" (which this week involves a pattern of rather elegant but not altogether constructive flowers and an interesting Celtic knot design).
As of first thing tomorrow I shall be heading to Stratford Upon Avon with my friend & colleague Helen in a getting-away-from-everything last minute trip where we will likely shop, eat and get very merry.
And, if I can manage to form words rather than pictograms, I shall be spending some of the trip writing. This is why I am taking a bottle of ink and ... five notebooks.
In my defence one of those notebooks is a date-diary and I have already taken one from my bag, on the theory that six is just ridiculous, but five is eminently reasonable.
The First Step might be admitting you have a problem, but I believe the Second Step might well be to care.
(Step the Second is actually to put faith in a 'higher power', whatever that might be. This likely makes life difficult for those attempting to recover from megalomania).
It should probably be noted that none of this is actually helping me pack. I should join Procrastinators Anonymous.
And I will ... one of these days.
