This is a post dedicated to all the lists I have written and then thrown in the bin, all the pairs of socks I've completely forgotten to take with me, and the anxious trip to the airport knowing that no matter what, I will have most certainly forgotten something.
Here's the thing - I love travelling, I loathe packing. In the lead up to any trip (even a two day sojourn interstate) I will inevitably have a pile of ever increasing size located somewhere on my bedroom floor, just taunting me with the knowledge that sometime I will actually have to get off of Lonely Planet and get to packing the darn thing.
It's a funny thing though, because I'm so organised in every other aspect of my life. And yet I still can't figure out how to pack a suitcase. Like the time I managed to pack toothpaste, but failed to remember a toothbrush. Or the time that I brought along sneakers, without any socks.
One day, in a far off universe, I will be able to pack a bag. But until then, I'll resort to having my Mum double check my suitcase...
It's a funny thing though, because I'm so organised in every other aspect of my life. And yet I still can't figure out how to pack a suitcase. Like the time I managed to pack toothpaste, but failed to remember a toothbrush. Or the time that I brought along sneakers, without any socks.
One day, in a far off universe, I will be able to pack a bag. But until then, I'll resort to having my Mum double check my suitcase...