Sometimes I think to myself, “Self, you over-think things.”
Case in point: I’m spending a good chunk of the weekend gearing up for Thanksgiving and I’m not even hosting Thanksgiving. But I can’t just let out a sigh of relief and make sure I’ve got a clean pair of elastic waist trousers to wear. No, no, no.
We’ll be away for a few days and it might be depressing to come home to a dirty house so I must CLEAN ALL THE THINGS!
And I bet we won’t be interested in cooking when we get back so it’ll be a good idea to have a few freezer meals ready to go.
And then there’s my kid. Throwing a couple of books in her backpack and making sure the iPad’s charged won’t cut it. What new apps should we get? What if we’re a couple hours into the flight and she rejects all familiar forms of entertainment in favor of repeating “are you we there yet?” for the next six hours? What if we get back from vacation and she’s overtired and hugely let down that our actual lives are not nearly as cool as a vacation from our actual lives? Clearly I’ve got to research apps, create a carefully orchestrated stash of travel entertainment, and wrap a welcome back home box filled with Christmas jammies and a new DVD.
And then there are the plants and the pets and the bills and the mail and the various e-mail accounts and loose ends at work and the laundry.
Bear in mind I haven’t even touched on any actual packing yet. Because what do I take? What if it rains? What if it doesn’t? What if my bag gets lost? What if I get air sick? What if the Kindle battery runs out and I have to read an actual book only all I can do is stare at the same page and tap it furiously because it’s been a long time since I’ve read a book-book and maybe I’ve forgotten how they work?
THERE ARE SO MANY VARIABLES! HOW WILL I SURVIVE THIS ORDEAL? WHAT IF I FORGET SOMETHING?
Then I remind myself, “Self, you over-think things. And you’re pretty paranoid about forgetting. Also? You should go to bed.”
So I do.