Yesterday, I went out to the garage, uhmed-and-ahhed over the few suitcases we own, brought one inside, and thus began the ‘Packing for New York’ adventures; soon to be followed by the even more adventuresome ‘Travelling to New York’.
And I think I’m ready to admit I’m a little terrified.
I didn’t mention in last week’s half marathon re-cap that in running I aggravated the shin splint in my left leg. The pain was enough to have me hobble off to the Osteopath on Saturday morning to beg ‘Please, please fix me before I have to sit on an airplane for twenty hours before spending the week walking around New York.’
Luckily, the issue was ‘muscular’ (her way of saying ‘Grow some freaking pain resistance’) and I confess it is gradually easing off. Big hooray. The downside is that it is her expert opinion that I wear only comfortable, durable shoes in New York. Then I wailed ‘But what about the cute wedge platforms or chunky heels I bought especially?’ She said, ‘Tough’. I said ‘Fooled you! I was only taking sensible shoes! In your face!’
Then, for some reason, she stood up and opened the door for me, as if she wanted me to leave. Strange.
Anyway, the clothes. There they are: seven outfits, plus a nice dress for the theatre (Jasmin and I are seeing Harvey with Jim Parsons. The kids are green with envy.)
Here is the mess of clothes before:
Here are the clothes now, tightly bundled up and no doubt wrinkling the shit out of them:
Note #1: I hope our hotel has an iron.
That leftover space will be enough to fit my toiletry bag, my medications (with their affiliated documentation) and that’s probably it. What about shopping, you ask? You may ask, and I haven’t the foggiest. Buy a new bag to bring it home? Don’t do any? My budget is very, very lean.
This brings us up to now, as I’ve spent the day swapping between EWF work, blogging work, writing work, housework… and it will be pretty much the same for the rest of the week. I just don’t want to wake up Saturday morning and have a ‘freak-the-fuck-out’, which would happen if I didn’t prepare in advance, but at the same time I don’t want to over think things either, as that isn’t great for my anxiety.
I’m trying to see if I can organise a meeting with my agent while I’m in New York (yes, that is about the most lofty-high-pants sentence I’m ever likely to write, so please let me say it the once, okay?) and there’s so much to do my head feels like it’s about to twist off.
Maybe that’s why I feel like curling up in bed to breath into a brown paper bag.
