Packing: This is My Hell

For the second time in 6 weeks, I’m packing whatever I think I’ll need for life into one giant suitcase. I’m heading over to England to work on the Olympics (!!!!!!!!!!) and I realized that my packing routine is…sad. It’s terrible really, and lasts over 3 days like some kind of horrific religious festival. So, instead of actually getting that packing done, I’ve decided to outline my routine! With bonus packing tips! (Hahahahahaaaa can you imagine? It takes me 3 days to pack but I’m giving other people advice? Can’t. Stop. Laughing.)

Step 1: Find suitcase

This one wasn’t hard this time, since I’ve had it lurking in my bedroom for weeks. This judgemental thing is there every morning, reminding me that I haven’t even thought about packing and that I’m the worst. It also looks like a body bag, which is appropriate, because my dad will be looking for one of those when he asks me if I’m fully packed 3 hours before we leave for the airport and I say no.

Step 2: What do you need?

I go online for an article that I read a while back detailing how the fanciest of jet-setters pack. One small wheely-bag that can last you 3 months! Roll everything, don’t fold! Pack lots of lightweight scarves and cardigans! I click out of article. Jetsetters be damned, the body bag and I will be just fine.

I then stand in front of closet. I will be so sparse, the TSA won’t even know what hit them! This bag will be the lightest of all the bodybag-like suitcases in the airport! No mercy! Just the favorite dresses, maybe some skirts, lots of lightweight tops…also cardigans! It gets chilly there!

15 minutes later….

Also this thick Irish sweater! What? I’ll be so close to Ireland, and what if we go there? And it’s chilly? At night? And it’s the coldest summer they’ve had in centuries? WHO’LL BE LAUGHING THEN? Ok. leaving the sweater. On to bathing suits! I’ll definitely need this speedo one-piece that I’ve had since middle school and needed to hold on to (for some reason). It’s the Olympics after all! What if Ryan Lochte accidentally chokes on some pool water and one of the PA’s has to go in and save him?! A two piece will slow me down! I try on the tiny suit.

Yeah…some other member of the crew will have to save my beloved Ryan. This thing must have…shrunk. In the drawer. You know, with disuse. I think you have to stretch them out every so often…whatever.

Dresses! My favorite part! Now of course I want this one…and this one…and this one…and you never know if you’ll have to attend a black tie event at Buckingham Palace, so this one too…and what if there’s a barbecue situation on a beach? I’ll need this one.

TOILETRIES! I ALMOST FORGOT THOSE! Toothbrush, face wash, AllOfTheOtherGirlyThingsThatNoOneWantsToReadAbout, etc. Holy goodnight, that bag weighs like 5 pounds! Eh, it’ll be fine, I don’t think the clothes weigh SO much.

Shoes. All of them.


This happens at regular intervals throughout the packing process and is why it lasts 3 days. First, it’s perfectly innocent. You realize you need to go to CVS and get travel-sized bottles of Purell or something, and 3 hours later, you’re either lazily on your laptop researching whatever happened to Zach, Summer’s water polo player boyfriend from The OC (In case you were wondering: He’s on that new show “Men at Work” now. Still a fox.) or out with friends, blissfully unaware that you have a tornado of clothes and shoes awaiting you in your bedroom back at home.

Step 4: Fitting It All

Oh my god, this is almost everything I own. How am I going to fit it all into this tiny (massive) suitcase? Gahhhhhh it’s going to go over the weight limit! Cram it all in! IT MUST ALL GO! LEAVE NO SHOE BEHIND!

Step 5: Regret

I don’t NEED to go. Just because my flight is booked/non-refundable, I have a flat all set up and a job doesn’t mean these plans are set in stone. They’ll completely understand if I don’t show up because I…can’t fit the last of my bathing suits into a suitcase that was clearly designed to see a family of 4 comfortably through a 3 week vacation. Keep rearranging.

Step 6: Mission Accomplished!

Yay! I did it! And as my dad angrily lugs what is a surely overweight (but fully zipped!) bag to his car, cursing himself for having put up with my packing shenanigans/volunteering (kind of) to take me to the airport, I can stand proud: I packed! Finally*!

*You forgot something, you dope. DOESN’T MATTER WHO YOU ARE, the second you get to your destination, you’ll realize that your retainer or whatever is safely on your sink at home instead of with you. MAYBE YOU SHOULD HAVE MADE  A LIST LIKE YOUR MOM TOLD YOU TO.

Posted on 06/29/2012, in Me, Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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