Where do all these miniature bits and bobs come from? Why do I have a million and one scraps of newspaper/magazine clippings and will I ever read them? How come we have triple the amount of power cords that we do actual gadgets? Whose homes do the dozen odd sets of keys in our utility drawer open and belong to??!
I've now stopped caring what I look and feel like and am devoting my last few days on this continent to systematically trashing/stashing/packing ALL of our personal possessions. I am subsisting on a diet of super-strength cappuccinos, homemade peanut butter cookies (what can I say?...baking is the only thing that relaxes me these days), and the odd bit of cheese and baguette.
Tonight however I intend to break out the red wine as the Diet Pepsi just ain't cutting it anymore. We are up to six suitcases and all thoughts of traveling 'light' have abandoned us. We shall be as we suspected - no more and no less - a wailing, shouting, vomit-stained traveling circus.
On a positive note however, I shall at least be hair-free as I'm booked in (the morning of the flight...why not live dangerously) to get waxed within an inch of my life.
Perhaps I should have made the appointment for today. It might have jolted my spazzed mind into some sort of panicky packing frenzy. Which would mean I wouldn't still be staring at the utterly useless pile of junk before me in exactly the same manner as I was over an hour ago.
Time for that wine.