I just finished packing for the annual family summer road trip. I’m looking at the bloated suitcases and tote bags lined up in the hallway and thinking, wow, I really overpacked.
“Just throw a few T-shirts, a toothbrush, and a few changes of underwear in a small bag and be on your way,” says my wash-and-wear friend, the one with the athletic build, perfect skin, and tousled beach blonde hair. Sure, it’s easy for her. She makes a shopping bag with armhole cutouts look like high fashion. She traveled Europe for a month with a carry-on backpack.
“Just buy what you forget at the local Target.”
I told her I don’t think there are any Target stores where we are going.
“Well, Wal-Mart then.”
Um, no. The Evil Empire gets not a dime of my money. (Actually, I’ve read some bad things about Target as well. My sexy boyfriend with the bull’s-eye tattoo has some dirty secrets. Looks like I’m going to have to reevaluate that relationship.)
“You are being difficult,” she says.
Sigh. Yes, I am.
I harbor a great resistance to packing. I procrastinate. Then I panic and overpack. This wasn’t always the case. I don’t know what’s gotten into me. Actually, I do.
This is an act of rebellion. When I use an airplane to get where I’m going, I am so restricted not only in weight and dimension but also suitcase contents. It makes me feel violated and oppressed. When I travel by car, I can take my entire wardrobe, my shoe collection, a stack of hardcover books, three types of shampoo in the full-size bottles. I can fill a suitcase full of liquids and sharp objects. I can keep my shoes and belt on when I cross a state line.
Of course, I am not going to get the last laugh this time. My husband called; he wrenched his back. No heavy lifting for several days. You know what that means, don’t you?
Later, I’ll post pictures of myself carrying the kitchen sink up the side of a mountain.
I never mean to over pack. It just happens. Like slow weight gain.
I feel your pain.
SK
you’re NOT overpacked. My mother went on a cruise for SIX days and packed 31 pairs of shoes. Now that’s overpacked!
Ugh. Good luck! Packing is the worst!
We have a family member who just went to the sticks of Europe [seriously, a tiny village in a Balkan country] and took 23 pairs of shoes for 2 weeks.
I like to contingency pack – it makes me feel better.
I’m with you on the WalMart thing. NEVER will I spend a dime there. NEVER. I’m also getting ambivalent about Target, but I’m not ready to do my shopping at Meijer.
Libby: Great comparison.
SK: I’m glad you felt it. I was oddly numb.
Melaeah and Suniverse: Wha? I don’t even own that many shoes. But I do tend to contingency pack, too.
Kristy: Only thing worse than packing is unpacking.