packing

It's nearly 2 am. I'm sitting in bed at my parents house waiting for my clothes to finish in the wash so I can start and finish my packing. I've struggled with this feat in the past, a fact that my family refuses to let go. I can almost guarantee that at some point before we leave my dad will ask me if I remembered to pack my underwear. it was one, maybe two times that i forgot ok?! it's not that big of a deal. let's all just let it go. I'm just hoping that packing at such an hour doesn't result in me bringing 7 swimming suits and nothing else. hello portland! 

Even if I do end up bringing only underwear just to spite my reputation I am going to have a great week. I can just feel it. I've wanted to go to Maine for years and while I can't quite describe why I feel such a draw to that most Eastern of states, I am drawn nonetheless. So my dad, in an act of kindness typical to his personality, bought tickets for my little sister and myself to join him in the visiting of lighthouses, the strolling of boardwalks, the kayaking of waters, the hiking of hills, and the tasting of lobster. my, don't we sound posh? we'll probably just end up at a Wendy's for a Jr. Bacon Cheese Burger and a baked potato. #callusclassy

Anyway, my life is grand and just keeps getting better. For instance, my laundry is finally finished and I can now sit in the softness of warmth infused clothing. But holy smokes I think I just burned my skin on a flaming zipper. And now I need to stop because I'm typing from a pile of apparel.

peace and portland

rrw