Packing Problems

I loathe packing for a trip! I have a hard enough time picking clothes to wear each day, let alone planning what I want to wear days in advance! But one morning in March, I had to pack for a two night stay in Chicago for a Hay House Writer’s Conference.

My mind was scattered. I felt rushed. I should have packed the night before, but I watched the Katherine Heigl movie, “Killers” instead. It’s the one where she’s digging through her suitcase wondering why she packed all her socks, but no cute dress. I always chuckle at that scene.

I picked out a couple of outfits, tossed them in my suitcase then stepped away to check the weekend weather in Chicago. Thirty eight degrees on Sunday – burr! I grabbed a dark gray zip-up-the front hoodie jacket to go with the Sunday outfit and added it to my suitcase. Then I went back to the closet and got the black hoodie for Saturday. My head gets cold and those conference centers can be chilly. Hoodies are my friend.

Heading out the door for a chiropractic appointment, I put on my purple hoodie. In the front seat of the car was my good jacket, the one I wear to work. “I’ll take that with me!” I chimed, tossing it in the back seat.

After my appointment, I filled my car with gas. The cool air was brisk. Still feeling chilled when I got home, I grabbed the large gray sweatshirt jacket hanging on the dining room chair and put it on over the purple hoodie. Warm at last!

I walked into the bedroom to get my suitcase and remembered I needed to pack for a possible extra night stay, so I grabbed yet another outfit from the closet and stuffed it in the suitcase. If I stayed overnight on Sunday, I would have to drive directly to a business lunch meeting on Monday, so I headed back to the closet for a business jacket.

When I left the house for the drive to Chicago I was still wearing the purple hoodie and oversized gray sweatshirt jacket combo. I was snug and comfy during the three hour drive north to the windy city.

Unpacking at the hotel I found a light weight green jacket which I didn’t remember packing. I wore it on Saturday instead of the black hoodie. My head was cold when I stepped outside for lunch, but there was a winter hat in the pocket. Yea!

The local weather indicated a big snow storm was heading toward Chicago late Sunday evening, so I decided to leave Sunday right after the conference. I could be home before the first snowflake and sleep in my own bed. Sweet!

The suitcase wouldn’t close when I packed in the morning. I pulled everything out and repacked. That’s when I noticed the overabundance of jackets: (1) the stowaway light green jacket with hat in pocket, (2) dark gray hoodie, (3) black hoodie, (4) business jacket, (5) purple hoodie, (6) huge gray sweatshirt jacket and (7) the good jacket in the car. Egads! Every jacket I owned traveled with me to Chicago!

I put on the dark gray hoodie jacket with the light green jacket over the top and shoved the giant sweatshirt jacket in my conference goodie bag. With suitcase secured I checked out and headed to the parking garage where I loaded all my stuff and headed back inside for the day’s session.

It was 35 degrees and already lightly snowing when I got into my car to head home that night. The steering wheel was freezing! If my hands had been wet, they would have stuck to the wheel.

I searched under the car seats, no gloves. I searched the pockets of the good jacket; nothing but fuzz. Not that I’ve ever put gloves in the glovebox, but that’s its purpose, right? I took a chance. Zip. I finally opened the trunk and searched my suitcase, but not one of those pockets, in any of those jackets, was hiding a pair of gloves!

I heaved the gigantic gray sweatshirt jacket over the two I was already wearing, pulling the sleeves over my fingers, and headed out of the city wondering if there was a deeper meaning for why I absentmindedly brought seven jackets for a two night trip. Now however, as I reflect back on this two-day snippet of my life, a more interesting question intrigues me. Why don’t I put gloves in the glovebox?