This Friday I will be flying out to Los Angeles for a conference. I am super excited - I'll get to visit with my grad school classmates, say hello to my friend Alli's pregnant belly, and hang with my freshman roommate. Plus, work pays for everything and I don't have to use up my precious, precious leave. Wistar has kindly agreed to bunny-sit Gilda, my flight was booked ages ago and my hotel accommodations are finally settled. But I can't shake the feeling that I'm forgetting something...
Oh, right. I haven't packed.
Packing/unpacking are not my strong suits. When my parents came to pick me up after graduation (from both college and grad school), they found that I had packed a box and half before giving up. I still had unwashed laundry and hadn't even unplugged my computer. I moved into my current residence over two years ago and I still have unpacked boxes. After the first few months I figured that if I hadn't used what was in there by now I'd never really need it. Also, I'm extremely lazy.
My family has sent me a couple none-too-subtle hints to get my packing act together. I received a lovely suitcase set from my mother on my last birthday. My father enjoys giving me ugly purses with thousands of pockets. For the winter holidays, my brother made me a toiletry kit that could be taken in a carry-on (clear plastic, with less than 4 oz bottles for shampoo and whatnot). I appreciate their efforts ... but the suitcases are full of clothes from their last trip, the purses get tossed to the back of the closet, and the carefully-assembled toiletry kit has been scattered to the wind.
When I am fabulously rich and an international jet-setter, I will need fully-furnished houses on every continent. That way I can toss some cookies in my purse and fly out at a moment's notice. I'd never own a suitcase again.