DC...packed or not, here we come

We're going to DC!

I'm supposed to be packing for DC.

We leave tomorrow.

But it's kind of too early for me to pack, for myself. There are 12 whole more hours until we even think about leaving, and, well, that means I don't have to pack right this second.

Except.

I kind of want to. I'd like to be packed, for both of us that way, Lovely J, would pop over to put bags in overhead bag-thingie he bought so the kids aren't actually sitting on top of the bags (this would have totally negated my necessary snackage and entertainment space) which means I can sleep tonight, without that dreaded feeling that I'll oversleep the alarm, and then I'll forget something vitally important when I throw clothes haphazardly into the bag - like a bra. (Did that last time. Got new bra; flight to airport with Gap Body in it? Embarrassing. Plane was cold. 'Nuf said) Oh, I've left the odd bit behind (razors, in the dead of summer, when you shave about every three hours, hair brush, toothbrush) but usually, I'm right on top of the Last Dash To Pack Game.

Usually, it's then when I shine. Excel even in packing! I can pack for three weeks in a carry on bag with my eyes closed, ten minutes before we're due to leave for the airport, with one hand tied behind my back. I wonder if it's the adrenaline rush I enjoy so much, or simply that I cannot be bothered with packing for myself until I'm sure everyone else is taken care of.

They are.

Fox: packed.

Pucker Up: going to doggie hotel bringht and early in am

Fridge: empty (is why we were forced to have ice cream and oranges for dinner. hmm. shame, that one)

Trash: goes out in about 30 minutes, when perhaps I get my lazy backside off the couch to collect the errant Lint Bunnies nesting next to the dryer.

I'm rather torn, however, not about whether to pack or not, at least, not right this second, versus, say, at 6:52am; more, over what to pack. DC will be in that InBetween Temperature Phase, that makes packing as a girl so damn hard. Mid to upper 60s.

Does that mean I dig out (dust off, perhaps even iron) cutie golf skirts, paired with long sleeves and sweaters, to show off pasty white New England stems, or, do I go the whole jeans and polo with layering sweater look, which  means if I over heat, I'll end up with sweat stains - I detest that. Of course, if I go the way of the golf skirt, and it's too cold, I'll lose the shave job to goosebumps the moment I exit any building. If I go jeans, I could be sweltering all day long.

Neither of those options look pretty in pictures.

As there is a pool, a suit is required - gggaaaaahhhhhhhh- I've got to try some on, to see which I can shoe-horn my backside into.

Must be a Mom-Suit. Nothing that shows too much skin, ie: one that if I jumped into the pool, I wouldn't be fishing the top or bottom out of the filter while putting all my goodies on display to terrify tourists in the pool area.

Not Such A Mom Suit though, that J wonders if we're trapped in the 20s, and I've donned a wool, long sleeve long legged bathing tog.

Wool is quite scratchy to start, and wet? I gather quite uncomfortable. Smelly. Wet sheep, alas, poor things, do tend to stench dreadfully. How did I get to the smell of sheep again.....?

Oh, yes.

Packing.

I suppose, I could simply go the easy route: pack essentials on the bottom (panties, bra, socks, hair dryer, brush, make-up) and then cram as many outfits as possible fitting into the In Betweness of the season before suitcase zipper breaks. That way, I've plenty of things from which to choose, I can be perfectly dressed for the weather, not to mention look smashing in any photos taken of moi, without truly having to make any decisions.

(20 minutes pass. I've the cutest clothes picked out! A little bit heavy on the pink, but running shoes have pink in them, and as we are going to be doing loads of walking, I do need outfits to match the shoes - heaven help the woman who clashes! Dug out bag, starting putting things in! So proud of me! Look, packing early!)

Found problem to this plan.

No one travels with steamer trunks anymore these days, and J did say that the bag needed to be about the same size as the kids' bags.

Fucketh.

Perhaps, this is why I pack at the very last second - to limit the number of choices I have to cram into said bag. Packing in a frenzy, rather like cramming for an exam has left me short of some essentials, some of the time - but nothing so hideous as to have failed with the Last Second Pack Job.

*deep breathing*

Okay. Am exhausted. Going to swap loads of laundry, locate some jammies for me, finish the Dreaded Sock Matching Game I've going on in the livingroom, and throw together enough choices for me so I can go pack it in for the day.

Unintentional pun, I swear.

Either way, whether appropriately dressed or not?

We're going to DC!