Time is Warped.  Or is it me?

So I have 8 wake ups til the taxi cab to Charles de Gaulle airport.  And my calendar appears packed.

Until it doesn’t.

You allow time for packing.  And it takes less time and suddenly there is time to fill – but with what?  There are too many choices.  I heard a story on NPR years ago about the stress of choice.  A GI returning after a long tour abroad was sent to the store by his wife  to pick up some cereal.  Maybe even Cheerios.  And he stood in the cereal aisle for over 30 minutes – trying to pick out the right box.  He was presented with so many choices – just in Cheerios themselves. He couldn’t decide.

So here I am in Paris with so many things to do and, presented with 2 hours to spare, I can’t focus on what to do.  I toss out one idea, replace it with another, toss that one out, go back to the first…  and suddenly, there is no time left.

Or, on the other hand, you allow 30 minutes for packing and at the end of 30 minutes, nothing seems to have moved.  It’s still in a circle on the floor around you.  While you are trying to decide: will you need this before the plane?  At the hotel?  This week?  Can it be shipped home?  What day should I wash it?  Does it even need to be washed?


Then you look at the calendar and freak because why ever did you purchase tickets for King Tut exhibit with a 9:30 am entrance and it will take almost an hour to get there.  Leave at 8:35?  What fool did this?

Oh. Me

I hate the last week.  It stresses me.  I make stupid decisions.  I irritate friends.  I bother friends – to call and say I am going crazy – like they need that conversation in their lives right now.  Not.

I can’t decide if it would be better or worse to be traveling with someone else.  Would that reassure me or just give me an opportunity to drive them insane?

So instead, I take it out on you, Dear Reader.  You can skim.  Or even skip.  Or laugh at.  And after the quick read, move on to the realities of your life.

I am stuck in Paris, contemplating suicide by suitcase.  NO NO NO.  That was morbid humor.  I’m sure if you have been a long time reader, you have lived through three other packing to go back to the states blogs.

I will say, I bet it’s easier to read them than to live through this.  I will also say, don’t sweat the small stuff, it’s all small stuff.

And then I’ll add, except packing.

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