The Proof is in the Packing

For those of you who actually READ my drivel, I do apologize for being incommunicado for two weeks. But you see, packing (and its good buddies "donating", "cleaning" and "dumping") is its own obsession and lifestyle. It comes with its own rules and excuses. For example:

1. The sooner you donate the dishes and switch to paper plates, the sooner you don't have to cook.

2. Clear packing tape, like lamination, makes all things better

3. Teenagers cannot pack. What they do to a suitcase cannot be called "packing". It must be called "stuffing", "shoving" or even "mixing dirty clothes in with clean, and then smashing them all together in the suitcase."

4. The air conditioner will cease to function precisely when you need to run up and down the stairs repeatedly to clean and pack.

5. When you go to the hardware store to purchase required bolts, spackle and tools necessary to return your rental property to it's original state, you will forget to buy exactly one item per trip. This will result in infinite trips to the hardware store, which will in turn force you to purchase Jamba Juice drinks (with the energy boost, of course).

6. In cleaning the vegetable drawer, you will invariably discover microscopic dried baby carrots, one incredibly sprouted onion and something squishy, frightening and greenish-black in a tied off plastic bag that might have originally been a bell pepper, a head of lettuce, or a zucchini. Or maybe not.

7. However many boxes you buy for packing and mailing, you will always need one more. Ditto for packing tape.

8. You may expect to become best friends with the UPS guy (Correy, who generously gave me a massive bag of styrofoam bits), the post office people (Jim and Sonya, lovely folks), the Goodwill Express people (Mary and Alex both told me they'd miss my visits) and, if you are me, the fine veterinarians, technicians and vets-in-training at the UC Davis Veterinary Training Hospital (where I am known as "the lady with the tower of cats", courtesy of my habit of stacking all 3 cat crates upon my mother-in-law's furniture dolly,and rolling them in together. Like a cat magician. Alakazam.)

....And these are just the first 8 rules of packing! If I weren't so (a) tired (it is 11:30pm, after all) (b) sore and (c) sweaty, thanks to the malfunctioning air conditioner, I'd keep going.

Suffice it to say, I have used my 2 weeks of non-blogging well. However, prepare your eyeballs, for once we arrive in Japan, I predict plenty of blog-worthy material to percolate through my life.

Until then, take my advice. Avoid packing at all costs.

Nighty night everyone. And remember: He (or she) who packs last, packs alone.