Debby Does…

When it comes to preparing for travel, there are two types of people:

The Debby types, who start packing and unpacking and making lists and planning for every possible scenario.

And, the other types, who shove it all in a duffle bag or suitcase, letting the wind take them as they are and considering nothing.

I want to be that second type.

I am a planner, a list maker, a worrier. I’m up at 4am, wondering if I have packed enough towels for the dogs in case it rains or if Jim might like a greater variety of snacks for the road. Should I bring my bundt pan? I mean, someone might require a pound cake. Well, if I’m bringing the pan, I should also bring cake flour, my homemade vanilla, and Pam for Baking.

Bag clips. We need bag clips. And, we definitely need some little spreaders for cheese. Plus, dog meds and treats and a couple of squeaky toys, including the hotel hedgehog. Maybe some piano music, because, I mean, you never know when you’ll have the urge to play Clementi.

And, all my recipes. I’m sure it’s all on the interwebs, but those don’t have my mom’s little notes and how will I know if “Men Like This!”

This is exhausting. And, it seems as though my husband does not operate the same way. That’s not to say that he is completely the second type of person, but he does not feel an overwhelming need to begin the packing process a month in advance.

I envy that. I envy anyone who can just let a whim take them on an adventure. I know that I’m not wired that way, so, here I am, on the last day of a lovely vacation, micromanaging the living shit out of anything that will hold still long enough.

Cue half a Valium and some regrouping, and I’m on the couch with my little orange dog, Adelaide, writing this and pondering a book.

Now, where is my list?