Packing Myself

...into a suitcase for 5 days. I am crap at packing a suitcase. This is how it goes:

Night Before Departure
(because who packs their suitcase ahead of time? Pfft. Certainly not me.)

10pm: Get home from band rehearsal. Realise that there is no other time to pack suitcase unless I fancy getting up at 5am and doing it then. Have done this before and forgot everything important (toothbrush, jammies, more than 2 pairs of underpants) so realise Must Pack Now or will end up in Dunedin for five days with no pants. Put on inspirational music.

10.05pm: Stop dancing around the lounge and put on something slightly less inspirational and more serious, because now it is time to get out the suitcase.

10.06: No it isn't, it is time for a glass of wine. To help the packing process.

10.10: Must stop dancing! Drag suitcase out from under the bed and stare at it. Open suitcase. Suitcase has a large spider in it! Spill wine on band uniform. Whoops fuck. On the plus side, no longer feel bad about not dry-cleaning band uniform.

10.15: After refilling wine, return to suitcase and dispose of spider. Start looking through drawers and making a pile of things to ta- wait! I made a list of things to take. Where is the list?

10.16: The list is at work. Return to drawers and start flinging items into pile of Things To Take (definitely) and Things To Take (maybe). Vaguely accept that nothing in the Maybe pile is going to end up going because suitcase will be too full but that's beside the point.

10.25: Oh dear. Pile of Things To Take (definitely) is much, much larger than suitcase. Also it looks like this: jammies, dressing gown, 2 pairs socks, 3 pairs undies (realise this is not enough for 5 days but all other pairs appear to be in the wash and I'll just have to figure something out), 2 pairs tights, 2 tshirts, ten billion black dresses, ten billion black jackets. What the fuck is wrong with me? Must thin out pile and also refill wine.

10.26: Found 3 more pairs of undies, including souvenir Australia ones! They say GO OZZIE GO on the waistband and have a koala on the bum. Highlight of packing process so far. Put socks, tights, and undies into suitcase as these are Necessary. Line up dresses and jackets on bed and squint at them. None of them do anything. Decide to put all the black dresses in because they don't really take up very much space and how am I meant to know which one I want to wear? Jackets more problematic. Try on jackets over onesie. They are all very nice, although some of them do not go well with baby blue/pink star pattern of onesie. Is impossible to know which jacket to take and yet I cannot take them all! It is like choosing between your children, which obviously I do not have or they would be doing the fucking packing for me. Set jackets aside for now and have more wine.

10.30: Am struck by packing epiphany! Obviously the problem is not that I am taking too many clothes, it is that suitcase is too small. Drag out enormous suitcase suitable for two-year trip to Germany and start filling it with items for five-day trip to Dunedin.

10.35: Suitcase is packed! Full of clothes. So full of clothes, in fact, that there is no room for makeup, accessories, shoes or anything else. Fuck fuck fuck. This is the largest suitcase in the world that I own. Take everything out again and go and watch TV for a while.

11.00: Return to packing. Stare at half-packed mess and begin shoving items into suitcase at random, shouting at clothes as doing so: "Aha, red jersey! There will be no room for YOU!" Realise that three belts may be excessive but am beyond caring. "In you go, belts! In you go! But not you, beanie. You are staying right here." Fling beanie to other side of room.

11.03: Retrieve and pack beanie.

11.15: Clothes are in, accessories are in. Packing is easy. Packing is a lark! Now all that is left is phone charger and laptop charger and shoes. Shoes fit, because suitcase is magic! Wine bottle appears to be in suitcase also. Who put that there?

11.20: Zip up bulging suitcase by sitting on it, pulling on zip and swearing. Suitcase is within an inch of splitting its sides but surely it will hold itself together until Dunedin? Smile in satisfaction at a job well done and throw self backwards onto bed, onto soft pile of... oh my God. Onto soft pile of black jackets none of which have been packed. FUCK IT I will wear them ALL on the bus. Where is the wine? Oh it is gone.

IN CONCLUSION PACKING SUCKS BUT WINE HELPS and also I am going to turn up in Dunedin and find out that I didn't bring any pants or something.