So far, I have:
- selected my suitcase (not difficult... I only have one, really)
- found a suitable light-weight extra bag to take for travel treasures (not that I'm much of a shopper... but you know... just in case...)
- washed my trusty carry-on Country Road duffle ready for action (it's only fair, as it usually only gets to come out for trips to the gym... which, let's face it, is not exactly a frequent outing)
- and... that's about it.
Why is there always so much more to do than I think there will be?
I've never been the kind of girl who dutifully packs weeks, or even days, early. If I do, I know I will desperately need something I have carefully packed right at the bottom of my bag. I also have the short-term memory of an alzheimic goldfish, so I am likely to forget what I have already packed, or assume I've packed something I haven't. And I am also a teensy bit disorganised, not to mention a gold-medal procrastinatrix.
So packing is always done the night before or the day of. And it usually ends in tantrums, very little sleep, and questionable decisions (yes, I do need seven pairs of ballet flats, and my tutu goes with everything, really, and I really probably will get around to reading that very thick hardcover book about something worthy and serious, despite the fact that I've never gotten past the introduction before without falling asleep...).
Note to self: Europe is not Antarctica. Anything I forget or need more of is a truly legitimate reason to shop :)
Pa(ni)cking begins for reals tomorrow. Probably.