The Batttle of Packing
I hate packing. I spend hours trying to choose the things that will keep me warm/cool, comfortable and beautiful, all at once. I compile an excellent, all-encompassing packing list, and later discover that my suitcase can fit only two thirds of the capacity of a paper sheet. Finally, when the bag is packed and zipped up, I find out that somehow those five-dresses-three-pairs-of-shoes-and-four-scarves way good 40 pounds, and oops! – it's too late to grow my biceps. Packing can be a nuisance – and yet, I secretly love it. I indulge into this process like one indulges into listening to a sugary song of the favorite boy band from the early teenage times. I might cry over the laws of physics when I realize I'm not able to fit in the fourth, absolutely essential pair of shoes. I can feel uncomfortable about the thought that I might not have a chance to nicely arrange everything in my closet and instead will have to memorize the exact location of every skirt in my bag. I might...