Packing

I'm out of breath. My own lack of coordination is somewhat stunning. I've taken to doing my own stunts lately as in the long run, it's definitely cheaper. Today's installment comes to you from the annals of an aging granny and the perils of an overcrowded mind. I've been trying to work myself up for an upcoming trip, rather unsatisfactorily, I might add, not because I don't want to see family members, but because of the sheer scale of planning that goes with my "health territory". I began the task of choosing clothes and any female knows you have to pack with "choices" in mind. We tend to dress to suit our mood and whilst my wardrobe is ample, it  often reflects a certain lack of chic these days. Its mood might suggest that I am not exactly sparkles and rainbows, today. After an appropriate amount of dithering, I began to take the clothes from the hangers and fold, ready for the suitcase. Feeling rather pleased with myself, I had mixed and matched everything to go with a particular pair of pants. Clever, you might think. Clever until the primary article of clothing glared at me with a gaping hole that could not be ignored. "I can fix that!" I said smugly. Oh Lesley, have you not read and absorbed that pride goes before a fall? I took the offending trousers to the room where I keep my sewing tackle. I refer to it as such because I have to wrestle with it every time a repair needs to be done. Reaching for the cleverly disguised box, I knocked over two rolls of wrapping paper and as I lunged forward to try to save them…. goodness only knows why…I pulled a muscle. As I tried to retrieve the paper, it unraveled from the cardboard roll and on trying to reroll it, I wondered if the trousers were really worth the effort. Deciding that I just might have another pair, I went back to closet and then found myself having to start the "outfit coordination" from scratch. I was getting heated. Then I realized I didn't have my phone with me. I wear a sensor and my phone has to be within a few feet at all times, only right at that minute, it could have been anywhere. Tell me I'm not going mad. I searched and retraced my steps around the house feeling like my brain cells were finding this all too stressful,  when I remembered the wrapping paper incident. Heading to the cupboard, I found my phone perched quietly on a shelf where, I might add, it had no business being. With each passing day I am convinced that I need my own entourage. A butler for my tea and crumpets, a personal shopper to prevent another "jean fiasco", a tailor to modify my clothes and do the impossible and an organizer to keep tabs on all the things that have minds of their own. I laugh out loud a lot lately. I'm easy to amuse. Life is filled with glitter and joy if you only know where to look. I start my day looking for it in the mirror and then look for opportunities to share with those whom God puts in my path. Have a splendid day and try not to take yourself too seriously.