Three more sleeps until I'm off and I'm driving myself crazy!
There's always something minor I have to do that turns into a major drama. I think it's because I'll be what's called 'an independent' traveller; ie, I'm on my own and I have to get it right.
And I'm disgusted with myself. I've not written a word of fiction, nor read a word of fiction in... okay, a week for writing, but weeks for reading. My mind has convinced me that I'll have plenty of time on the plane - Australia is a long way from everywhere. I'm even suspicious of people who've said 'have a great time'. Someone needs to slap me really hard, I think.
Hell, I'm more organized than the last time I went OT (Over There). I've laid everything out, adding stuff, removing extra, balancing luggage, checking documents, organising the dog and the aged parent. And yet, the anxiety levels are up to the disturbed sleep levels.
Like I said: someone needs to slap me. It will be fun, dammit!
I think I'll go back to obsessing: if I remember my toothbrush, I've forgotten something else; and if I've forgotten my toothbrush, then that's what I've forgotten.