Day 322: Prep Time

By Lara, lara@trippingonwords.com

Well, it is that time again. Time to start packing. At least to a normal person it would be. In actuality, I will probably not start packing for this move to another climate until about 3 hours before my flight. At which point I will be too stressed out about making said flight to care about all the things that I cannot get together because I am packing at the last minute. And then I will be so exhausted and flushed with gratitude to have made it to my seat on the plane that it will take me until about two days later to care that I do not have a toothbrush other than the one British Airways provided on my flight over. I will undoubtedly have about 50 books with me, though.

This is a family trait. Really and truly. In fact, I am a model of timeliness and punctuality in my family, though that of course does not mean that I am ever on time. The airport departure is a good example of this. I will not be on time for my flight to Nairobi, I can guarantee it. I will follow the familiar Family Packing Schedule:

We all start packing when we should be leaving and take turns rushing in and out of the shower as elsewhere passengers begin boarding our plane. We keep an eye on how far behind the others are so we can strategically start talking loudly about being the only one ready to go while everyone is too distracted to notice that we have yet to pack. Finally, we head out of the house, calling all our cellphone services to find out which way has the least traffic, then race to the airport proclaiming never to cause this type of unnecessary stress to ourselves again. We make many resolutions, we discuss the reasons for our procrastination (“we live in the moment,” we say. “We are experienced travelers…it actually saves time to be late because you can cut the security line.”)

Clearly, it is through no fault of my own that I have four major projects to complete before my flight on Wednesday. I realized I had already begun sensing the gauntlet to come when my entire body flooded with relief when I discovered that my flight left at “oh! Seven!” on Wednesday rather than Five o’clock. As if those two hours buy me considerable leeway in completing things like my taxes.

Happily, though Claire is very deliberate and planned about many things, travel and airport arrivals is not one of them. So she understands my packing style, and it does not cause her major anxiety. Perhaps because she is just as bad as I am, as the following clip from Vietnam shows. (from my digital still camera…pardon the quality)



I fear this may be one of those entries that causes people stress as they wonder how Claire and I survive ourselves. I apologize. And I will vow to change. But it won’t happen.