We are leaving for vacation at the end of next week. It’s an annual thing, and we do it to see family but also to participate in the New London, New Brighton antique car run. This has led to fic before, but it’s also just nice to see the cars.

I also drive one of said cars when Grandpa lets me, and I dress up in costume and so forth.

Today I started readying my suitcase. First, I wandered around aimlessly, fussing and making no progress. I sat down and made a list of things I needed to bring, freaking out when I couldn’t find my boot socks. (These are a thing, they’re important, they belong to the boots as a nice accent and adds to the costuming/effect.)

To stop the fretting, I went about finding all the tank tops I wanted to bring, set them aside. Found some shorts and the sweaters for over the tank tops when it’s colder, made a pile. I’d say I had roughly half of what I needed set aside when I once again lost focus due to the lack of boot socks.

Frantic, I searched under the bed, on the top bunk, and through all the drawers. Victory came near the end. I found my boot socks, and relief overtook me. I put them in the suitcase right then, zipped it up and smiled.

Then I decided to figure out what jeans I wanted as non-work jeans (I pack one work pair, since I get under car and grease stuff prior to the car run and one for other purposes) and I found a pair with butterflies on them that I couldn’t remember if they fit. So I tried them on.

They were a little tight, but Little Daylight was playing in the background, so I did some dancing to see if the jeans would loosen up.

Yeah, so since then, I’ve accomplished nothing but dancing in the jeans. I guess I’ll resume packing tomorrow after my day job.