I negative rock at packing!

I am the world’s worst packer. Ask anyone. Well, that won’t yield you much information since almost nobody knows me. So don’t ask anyone. Unless you know any of my family members. If you know any of my family members, DEFINITELY ask them. They can certainly tell you how very much I suck at packing. Some of them have suffered in some way due to my deficiency. If there was a competition devoted to world’s worst packer? I’d totally be ranked first in the competition. The commentators would be talking about me in the quiet, reverent tones they reserve for the very gifted. I’d strut into that stadium (Come on! You know it would totally be held in a stadium!) and I’d commence with the smack talk immediately. I feel that my ineptitude at packing is almost forgivable because when you are so bad at something despite having taken steps to fix the problem to no avail, you probably have a dark force that you are battling, and you can’t really be blamed if you can’t defeat a dark force, can you? These steps I’ve taken include creating the WORLD’S MOST EXTENSIVE AND EXHAUSTIVE PACKING LISTS. Yes, it’s plural. It’s plural because I’ve created a list for different types of trips and for different types of trip attendee configurations. And these lists are comprehensive even covering details such as the shopping list when we arrive at our destination. So you know what happens when you are the creator of the WORLD’S MOST EXTENSIVE AND EXHAUSTIVE PACKING LISTS, right? You completely ignore them and refuse to reference them when packing for all trips because who needs a stupid list when you are the creator of said list? Incidentally, the person who needs the list is the creator of the list. It’s why you created it in the first place. This is what you discover EVERY TIME you arrive at each destination. And you curse your stupidity. EVERY TIME. And you wonder what you forgot this time. We just got back from our big annual beach trip. On this trip, I forgot to ensure that JT packed his tennis shoes and sunglasses. Who needs sunglasses at the beach? And tennis shoes aren’t all that important for the city that you want to prowl on foot because you adore it and want to explore for the eleventh time every nook and cranny of it and introduce its beauty to your kids. JT wore his new, never-been-worn Tevas while we walked the city of Charleston and worked on some shiny new blisters. They were things of beauty. I packed active wear items for the biking we would do on Kiawah. There are biking trails galore and biking is one of our favorite activities on the island. So I packed enough active wear TOPS for the week. Bottoms? Yep, left ’em all at home. The kids sometimes get carsick particularly on long car rides. So, I went out the night before we left to stock up on Dramamine. I bought the hell out of that Dramamine. And instead of leaving it out so they could take it before we left, I packed it. I packed it deep where it would be good and safe and not at all accessible when we figured out we needed it 2 hours down the road. But we did at least have it for the return trip…. Yay? I forgot to pack a blanket for the bed since I always get cold at night. Yes, at the beach in the summer. Do not judge. I’m weird. It’s just who I am. I forgot to load my audiobook for the drive. Yeah, I know. A small thing. But it’s on the list. And now I feel like my own lists are mocking me. Shut up, WORLD’S MOST EXTENSIVE AND EXHAUSTIVE PACKING LISTS.

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