My flight for Florida leaves at 3:30 in the A. M. (AM!!!)
I haven't packed a thing, I'm supposed to be doing this now.
I'm a procrastinator. Watcha gon' do.
I know what my mom is gonna do. She's gonna nag me into packing and I will grumble. And I will gripe. I will yell, "I hate packing!!" about 18 gadgillion and 9 times (this is an accurate number) whilst I stomp through the house (because this makes packing easier.) (I'm a good coper). And I will grudgingly begin throwing random stuff in my suitcase about 2-3 hours before we are suppose to leave (so that I can get 1-2 hours of my 9 hours of required beauty sleep) and hope for the best.
This is a vacation ritual. (it sounds better this way ha?)
Packing has to be--no. Packing IS. BY FAR. the WORST. part about vacation (next to leaving vacationland and having to unpack and go to work. Talk about a kill-joy.) and it's pretty hard for the spirit to drop when you know vacation is just around the bend.
- 6 consecutive days of non-work. (YEA BABY!!)
- Friends and coworking hard-core hating because you get 6 days of non-work. (Bring on the hate! Give. It. To. Me! I'm loving it!)
- Busiest travel day of the year. Long lines. 5 hours of sitting with minimal elbow space. (Got the iPod on standby, I'm ready for ya! Vacation. Vacation! VACATION! Woot! Woot!)
- Packing.
**shutter**
Ugh.
I need inspiration. Vacation just isn't standing up to the dreaded packing.
I'm off to stomp now. Let the stomping commence....
Ugh.
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