11 March 2011

challenge accepted

Today is the first day of spring break. In honor of this momentous occasion, I have decided to give you yet another peek into my crazed psyche. Yes, to celebrate my pseudo-vacation from work (I still have tons of homework), I will write. Sometimes I worry even myself.

In keeping with the theme of this post, I am going to talk about packing. Packing seems like the kind of activity I would enjoy. It involves planning, thinking logically, and making lists. But rational behavior on my part would be too easy.

Packing turns this neurotic young woman into a crazed competitor.

When packing, of course I begin by thinking practically. I know that I will be somewhere for a certain amount of time under certain weather conditions. My brain can process these facts.

However, once I have established these concrete things, my mind begins to wander. As I start to set aside items that I know I will need, this feeling of inadequacy takes over. I feel threatened.

I’m not saying that I have an insufficient amount of clothing. I am blessed with more than enough clothing to keep me warm and decent (except for when I’m at home. then all bets are off). But, when I pack, I feel like I need to prove myself somehow, either to the people I am going to see or even to the location itself. Because obviously Palm Springs will judge me if I forget to bring a pencil skirt.

So, as expected, things get out of control. I reach for items that I haven’t worn in a while with the hope that their resurrection would make my wardrobe revolutionary once more. I put together ensembles that I think will shatter the way other people perceive clothes. I need to prove that I am creative. No. I need to prove that I am the most creative person ever. My suitcase becomes inexplicably filled with crap that I probably won’t even wear. I recognize that I am being ridiculous, but I can’t seem to edit myself.

As I was packing for this trip, I had to keep reminding myself that no one was challenging me. I think I packed the appropriate amount of stuff for the week, but at this point in my life I’m not even sure that I am a reliable judge of appropriateness. I figure, as long as I can lift my suitcase, it’s probably okay.

This is why I can never work out. Recalibrating the way in which I judge my luggage would require way too much effort.


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