We hit the road again tomorrow, next stop BRISTOL! It's absolutely outrageous the amount of crap I will attempt to fit into a bag big enough to fit an adult human body. I tell myself over and over, 'I need ALL OF THIS SHIT and the extra shoes', obviously this is a load crap seeing as I'll only wear one pair of shoes for the next couple of months until I get bored of them or until they fall apart - whichever happens first, usually the latter. Note to self: being Emelda Marcos and the woman who lived in a giant shoe- not good. But yes, packing is not my forte and I hate it. Oh what a life I live to actually worry about packing... It makes me feel dirty like a piece of shit.
I used to absolutely hate taking a handbag out with me and now I walk around with a mammoth sized atrocity carrying a lot of pointless objects for those 'just in case' moments. Maybe it's an 'age' thing. My sister who has a 2 year old son, leaves home with a smaller bag than I do and she carries a box of Pampers and an industrial sized tub of E45 Cream with her at all times.
What else do I need to do before tomorrow? ...
Ugh I abhor 'to do' lists, mainly because I can never complete them but I have this constant urge to write them then eventually write them off. They're usually penned before bedtime in some neurotic fevered way. Like a pre-bed head cleanse before I close my eyes for the day. I cleared out the draws by my desk the other day and found about 60 unticked, unfinished lists of importance. It's really quite questionable how important these, 'to dos' were seeing as a few of those lists were over a year old and were all practically unfinished. I noticed, 'find a job' was on one of the lists, underlined, circled and highlighted TO FUCK.
Ok so I don't actually need to pack all this shit do I?
Grrrl Sounds moving!
3 months ago