can't hardly weight

To quote a painfully over-quoted John Denver song:
All my bags are packed, and I'm ready to go...

In this case, as in most cases, 'ready' would be the operative word. I have this awful habit certain inclination to constantly be prepared for, well, everything. I won't leave the house without all the necessary house-leaving accoutrements. For most people, this would mean keys, cell phone, wallet, identification and lipstick. For me, this means keys, cell phone, wallet, identification (two kinds), lipstick (two kinds), gum (two kinds), snacks, pens, matches, reading material, day planner, Advil, reading glasses, sunglasses, lip chap, hand cream, perfume sample, Band-Aids (circular blister size), tissue, all of my receipts, tampons (all month-round) and a second pair of mittens. This way, I won't be ill equipped for anything.

In addition to being a notoriously heavy packer [and an inadvertently proud pack-rat] I also pack early. Too early, in fact. Example: I am leaving for a visit home on Wednesday. My bags have been packed since Thursday. Last Thursday. There they sit, next to my dining room table, in all of their neatly stuffed glory, just waiting to be hauled into a cab and then shoved onto a conveyor belt by some WestJet betty named Chelsea-Lynn.

Walking into the kitchen last week, my roommate looked down at the bags (two kinds) on the floor.

"Carli! Look at that. Why, you're all packed," she says.

She sounds impressed. What's not to be impressed about? I'm organized. I'm tidy. I'm methodical in my preparation for departure, as well as for most other things. To make a functional 90's reference, I'm like Monica from Friends - on copious amounts of Dexedrine, and very little sleep.

I suppose I have saved myself some time. Freed up a few hours that I can now spend doing work, and bidding my friends farewell. But while I bask in the vastness of my open schedule, they’re all scrambling to meet deadlines, write papers, and finals, and, of course, pack their own bags to go home.

And the worst part is, while I sit alone and wait for everyone else to finish up, I'm forced to do so wearing the same outfit day-in-and-day-out, until I touchdown in Manitoba, and unpack these bloody, undoubtedly overweight bags.