Justin and I just returned from a franchise meeting in Dallas. Seeing we were coming from San Diego, we had to hop on a plane to arrive in the ‘Lone Star State’.
For some reason, when I have knowledge of an upcoming event in another state, (i.e. a wedding, a business meeting, or even a vacation for that matter) I have this urge to reorganize my life. I hop into Nordstrom Rack to buy all new toiletry bags, pick out new shampoo and conditioner, go through my jewelry to decide which necklace will look best with which outfit regardless of the fact that I hardly wear jewelry. I’ve even purchased a new hairbrush for a trip once. I think I own about 18 hair brushes. However, for some reason, this oddity happens EVERY TIME.
Packing my bag is even more hilarious. I pack outfits that I haven’t worn in years. I pick out slacks from my closet that still have tags on them, underwear that I never wear because they are so effin’ uncomfortable (but they are ‘so cute’), shirts that say ‘respectable’ but are really ‘uncomfortable’ and require ironing (and I don’t iron, folks), and the best part—shoes that I have worn only once–maybe in a wedding. Or even better, shoes that I wore back in college days when you didn’t care how uncomfortable something was–as long as they were cute for the nights out on the town with your gang of girls.
This trip in particular happened to be a total of two nights. For this trip, I packed: 8 pairs of underwear, 6 pairs of shoes, my entire make-up collection that I rarely ever wear, every medication you could possibly imagine, regardless of the fact that Dallas is a civilized land with drugstores of its own, and a total of 7 total outfits. 7 cute outfits, but seven uncomfortable outfits.
Did I mention that I spent the majority of the time sitting in a conference room of the Embassy Suites Hotel listening to a presentation?
I ended up with a front row seat at this presentation that lasted from 8:00am-4:30pm. My number one thought was how I wished I had worn my mom underwear and a pair of pants that were a bit more forgiving in the waist. I think I went to the bathroom about eight different times to undo the button on my ‘skinny jeans’ so I could get a few full, deep, breathes in and readjust my awfully cute and HORRIBLY uncomfortable under-roos. All I really could think about was how I wished I’d sat in the back so I could unbutton my pants without anyone behind me seeing.
I got home last night at 9:30pm and the first thing I did when I walked through the door was ripped my ‘cute’ clothes off, threw on my favorite comfy stretchy pants and whipped my bra off.
I woke up this morning having learned a valuable packing lesson. Pack the way you actually live. Going forward, I will pack my mom stretch pants, my mom underwear, and shoes that I can walk in. I can pretty much pack my day-to-day life in a back pack seeing as I hardly ever brush my hair, put on make up, or wear a pair of pants that actually button. Unless I am snapping a photo for Instagram that day. (HA HA, kidding. Sort of….) #vain #rolleyes
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