The Packing

One of the more interesting things I learned during my business career was that entrepreneurs don't like making decisions. It limits their options. I've never liked packing for the same reason. Making decisions about what to take and what to leave home irrevocably limits my options. And deciding between the blue shirt and the white one, or the tan trousers and the grey ones is always difficult. I now usually lay out everything I think I'll need, decide which bag to put what into and go to work. In trying to be equipped for any eventuality, I always pack too much. I'll just take both shirts, or both trousers. Then, like Lucy, I have this confrontation with my suitcase, squeezing it shut and hoping the zipper won't break anywhere between home and wherever I'm going.
Ultimately, with those decisions made, and the bags packed, waiting for my pick-up ride to the airport, I can't remember what I packed where. I usually get a headache when I'm flying. In which bag did I pack the Tylenol? Or did I remember nail clippers? And are they in the big bag or the little one? How about earphones? Or sun screen?
When I arrive at my destination, I always worry that my bag won't arrive with me. This vague possibility became a harsh reality once, when I flew eagerly to Istanbul while my bag remained stubbornly in New York. I survived for four days with the contents of my carry-on bag and the few essentials - shaving cream, deodorant, socks, some underwear - that I could buy at the first local men's store I could find. Handicapped though I was, this limitation had an upside. For those four days, others on my tour had to struggle at every stop with their huge bags. I got onto the tour bus with my camera, my carry-on and my pathetic little plastic bag from the men's store.
And then, of course, when the bags finally arrive, everything in them is squashed and wrinkled. No matter how carefully I pack - Martha Stewart taught me to put each of my shirts in a plastic grocery bag - my clothes always look like they just came out of the washer. How can I make a good first impression when the impressions made by books and bottles are indelibly imprinted on my blazer? No, I don't like packing. But I've done it. The bags are closed and I'm ready. Today, Miami. Tomorrow, London. Thursday: Cape Town. Onward into my grand adventure!