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.