Obsessive/Compulsive in a Suitcase

Pack. Unpack.  Reorganize. Pack. Unpack. Rinse. Lather. Repeat. This has been what my last week has been like.


Call me compulsive, maybe obsessive, most likely a combination of the two- but these big trips to opposing hemispheres and faraway places, back and forth the Equator, crossing great oceans into unknown territories really exacerbate these two tendencies in me big time. The Listmeister is in full force once again! It's all great fun, don't get me wrong!  I like preparing and thinking ahead. But it is nerve-wracking.  Checking and rechecking. I am genetically wired anyway (thanks again, Dad!) to be over-organized, make zero errors if possible and be ready days in advance.  I have learned to live with it.

 List upon list. Little codes appear next to items on each sub-list to indicate exactly where (and sometimes when) each item falls into place. Some items are lightly crossed off casually and confidently. Some items are crossed off with heavy, scribbly, aggravated-looking lines- clear signs of over-checking. Stars, circles, X's, or check marks that mean 'it's in the bag and I won't see it 'til Sydney!' Do I have enough? Is this too much? Have I bought it? found it? ordered it? washed it? powered it? charged it?  zip-lock bagged it? folded it? packed it? listed it? checked it? 3.0 ounce-or-lessed it? downloaded the latest version of Nortoned it? On and on. You must live two weeks in advance and think of everything.

So for me, along with the ecstasy of flying away to unknown, often-remote, exotic and foreign lands comes the agonizing task of preparing for such an expedition.  It both tickles and taunts my brain.

At last tonight, I'm down to the "Final 24 Hour Count" list. As I reflect on this whole, laborious process, it makes me appreciate how an expectant parent feels during gestation as time brings them closer and closer to the birth of their child, or how a bride plans each and every single, minute detail of her wedding right down to the very last moment she appears just to get it right. 


Waiting for the big moment is fun, but it is exhausting, too.

Weeks ago, the mini-lists began and snowballed into one giant, mangled up, master-list that has kept me as its slave. But finally tonight I will break free from the tormenting shackles of most of it, zip up that suitcase one last time and cross off all but the very last of it, then toss that damn list away.