Ink and Paper Dreams

Oh.  Hey.  You.

Yeah.  I'm alive.  Summer... happened.  There is a great multitude of more poetic ways to describe it, I'm sure, and as a writer, I probably have some sort of an obligation to do so, but I'm leaving at the end of this week and packing is a distinctly unpoetic activity.  My soul is rebelling at the thought of suitcases and organization and finding easily disposable (and preferably cheep) cardboard boxes that I can use and then throw away upon arriving.

Packing is a process which by its very nature crushes creative processes.  It involves putting everything in categories and positions and not having to think about them until the lovely headache of unpacking and oops I forget X amount of necessary items and why did I pack Y amount of unnecessary ones?
It's practical.  And sensible.  And soul-crushing.

I resent packing.

It involves a whole lot of considering all of your possessions and debating which ones are actually intrinsic to your survival and glumly realizing that an ungodly amount of things are intrinsic to your day-to-day survival and that's sort of pathetic.

Whatever happened to setting off with one suitcase and the clothes you were wearing and the money in your pocket?

If Gandalf came knocking on my door informing me of my required attendance on an Adventure, just think of the resulting: "Um, okay yeah, just give me a second.  I'll just grab this backpack and put in a change of clothes and... let's see... my contact liquid and cases, and glasses just in case... um, chapstick - you never know when you need chapstick!  Some ponytail holders - can't have hair in my eyes.  Bobby pins!  SO.  MANY.  BOBBY PINS.  Sunglasses... nail clippers, toothpaste, washcloth... notebook and pencil and old notebooks in case I need to refer to them, a book in the event of down time... flipflops, because my feet might need an airing out... extra pairs of socks... deodorant - you'll be glad of it, I assure you.  Alarm clock (how else will I know when to wake up?).  What about some granola bars and water bottles?  Bandaids!  I knew I forgot something...  What about - um... Gandalf?  Gandalf, where did you...?  Hello?  Don't leave without me, I'm almost packed!  Just need to find that one tube of water-proof mascara..."