Today is mostly brought to you by the letters P for packing, C for chaos and the numbers 1-10 for regulating breathing. This is my bag all packed... and the vomit of rainbow muddle around it is the stuff I still need to get into the already full pack. The stress of culling clothing is making me breath funny. I'm not sure I can manage nine months without my denim skirt. I'm obviously not taking my red cowboy (cowgirl?) boots... isn't that sacrifice enough!
On the upside, Melbourne is turning on the awesome to remind me why this is where I want to come home to at the end of the trip. Not just glorious sunshine (perfect for drying the last minute washing that also needs to make it into the bag), but I have been treated not once, but twice to the sight of a full-costume Gorilla person on Carlisle St seemingly going about his or her (hard to tell) business as if wearing full gorilla costume is in fact completely normal. I love you Melbourne.
OK. Deep breath. I'm going to unpack, cull again, and repack. Only 1 sleep left until take off.
Lots of love
Lozzy xxxxxxxxxxxx
Don't take your tent pegs on the plane. I have it on good authority they will be confiscated.
ReplyDeleteBlissful journey, Loz!!!!! mx
Hmmm... tent pegs no, but will they let me take hiking poles I wonder???
ReplyDelete