For someone who loves to travel as much as I do, its amazing how much I hate packing. No matter how much I plan in advance, or how many to-do lists I make so as to accomplish everything without going batshit crazy, or forgetting an essential, it’s invariably left to the very last minute. So last night, amidst frenzied throwing of things into a suitcase, running through checklists in my head and all the while cursing the very act itself, I got my shit together, packed and went to bed. Only to realise in my half-sleep, dream like state that I had forgotten night clothes, and hadn’t packed any skirts. Yes, a beach holiday, without skirts. Bravo, Revati.
So here I am, up at an ungodly hour, presumably to pack, but also to finish up some leftover work. Of course, isn’t there always some leftover work right till the very last hour? And yet, here I am blogging, instead of working. Bravo, Revati.
Run-ups to holidays have always been insane for me. The excitement bubbles under, and makes it impossible to focus. The closer the holiday gets, the harder still it is to stay in the zone. So its been a week of holding it in, trying desperately to focus on work, and generating endlessto-do-lists, striking one thing off at a time as we got our essentials (think, passport photos, currency, tickets yadayada) in order post-work, sneaking in a questionable amount of socalizing (when I ought to have been working/packing). And then worrying about not having finished. And in the end, despite planning like there’s no tomorrow, I was of course packing, the night before. And of course I forgot the essentials. And of course there is still some unfinished work that needs to be done.
Ah well, c’est la vie.
I can live without skirts I guess. And some work can wait till I’m back I guess. Because holiday-mode has fully set in now. And I cannot shake off the visions of being on a beach, cocktail in hand, beyond the reach of cellphone networks and people I know.
See you on the other side!