I decided three shifts in 36 hours right before I leave might be a bit silly, so I have taken today off. Bad move. Now that I am not distracted by work I come face to face with my anality. Breathe.
OK, pack. Passport, credit card, phone, ticket. Done. Many people have said, pack then take half back out. There goes the phone.
But really, I look in my wardrobe and think mmmm maybe that and that and that, then throw them all in check the weight, and if I can still lift it I can fit in a few more things. I have found that life is just a series of moving things from one place to another. I probably came to that conclusion on an acid trip.
Every time we travel Karl says that I married him because he is good at lifting heavy things (my suitcases), that is nonsense. I dragged my heavy suitcases around the planet long before I met him. But not wanting to disappoint, and after four years of bootcamp he loves it 'cause it gives him a chance to show off.
I have managed to waste a morning and now am feeling a bit precious so I've booked to have a massage and my hair done before I head off to the last two shifts of distraction.
Why does time go so slowly when you are waiting for something and so damn fast when it arrives?
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