Have I said I hate packing lately? Because if I haven't, I hate packing. It makes me grouchy, it stresses me out, and I lose all sense of what is important. Because let's face it, if I knew what was important, packing would be a snap for me - I would just put the important stuff in the suitcase and be done with it.
See, what gets me every time is the possibilites. What if it rains? What if I have to walk a lot? What if it turns suddenly cold? What if some terribly handsome guy I meet on the way just happens to invite me to an incredibly chic place for dinner? I have to be prepared for this, have just the right thing on hand, be ready at the last minute. That's what travel is for me: surrendering to the moment. Okay, that's what life is to me, but stay with me here.
Actually, nevermind. I just needed to get that out.