I can say with 100% honesty that I would rather pack up my entire apartment in preparation for a cross-continental move than pack one simple suitcase for one simple week-long trip.
I’ve packed up and moved a half-dozen times; I’ve got that shit down. And even though I’ve packed for and taken a lot more than a half-dozen trips, I’ve still not mastered that particular art.
Case(s) in point:
1. I once arrived to my friend’s wedding – where I was to be the MAID OF HONOR – only to realize that I had forgotten to pack deodorant. DEODORANT, people. Not “oops I forgot an umbrella.” I had to persuade someone to stop at a grocery store on the way home from the rehearsal dinner so that I could buy some. I was so nervous about possibly smelling like a sewer drain (see also: super crush on Best Man, oy) that I probably perspired even more.
2. I once travelled home for Christmas break without packing any… are you ready for this one? Underthings. Like – none. No change of drawers. No brassieres. Just what I had on my back…side. An emergency trip to K-Mart ensued shortly thereafter, my mother rolling her eyes the whole way.
While these are the two Biggest Examples that my memory can conjure, I’d like to add that one hundred-million “oops I forgot a toothbrush” moments have been thankfully remedied by friends and relatives with home stockpiles.
And I know exactly what you’re thinking. Write a goddamned list, Julie! scream your brain-waves to mine.
I guess you probably wouldn’t believe me when I say that I write out such a list before every trip I take. And I usually begin my packing by meticulously crossing off each item as it makes its way into my suitcase.
But then I get about halfway through, think “Surely the rest of this stuff is obvious” and start just throwing random items into my luggage.
Which is how I end up with no shoes and sixteen decks of playing cards.