Today is The Day

I’m waiting for time to pick up the rental vehicle. I’ve rented a “mid-sized SUV”. If it’s what the rental place promised, a Ford Escape, it has basically the same frame as my little Ranger pick-up truck. I’ve driven my truck for twelve years now, so I’m comfortable with it. It has enough clearance to take wherever I want to go. It has enough height so that I can see the highway ahead. Gas mileage with the current prices is worrisome, but I’ll just have to live with it.

Excited, fearful, circling around with the last minute jitters. Have I forgotten anything? Probably. Am I packing too much stuff? Probably.

My husband, Joel, has been watching me do this for days now.

I pack. I unpack. I pack again. Too much or too little?

Joel keeps reminding me that I am not going to another planet. He’s pretty sure that I’ll be able to get whatever I need along the way. I do believe he might be right.

Ah, Stuff, you are my defense against anxiety. Feel anxious? Surround yourself with more stuff. I wish it worked as something beyond distraction. Too soon the love affair is over and all my beautiful stuff just turns to crappy clutter.

I find myself wondering, when Georgia O'Keeffe drove from New York to New Mexico, how much stuff do you think she carried? I know from reading her letters to Maria Chabot that she shipped things to New Mexico, but she was going for three to six months at a time. I try to imagine what she would have done back in the 1920s and 30s if she had all our modern conveniences. My excuse for carrying all this gear is that I used to be a Girl Scout and I'm just trying to “Be Prepared”. It sounds good in theory, but right now it is wearing a bit thin.

It’s OK. I’ll cull things as I pack the truck. Barring that, I’m a very spatial/visual thinker. In other words, I’ll make it all fit.

Things that I need to do, could do, should do, all these things circle around inside my head.

I meant to clean out the refrigerator. I can get rid of some of this anxious energy doing that while I wait for it to be time to pick up the rental vehicle.

I didn’t pick up rawhide chews for Ubu, the amazing Australian cattle dog. Joel will have to take care of that. He’s listened patiently while I’ve told him over and over how to get Ubu to take his medicine. I’m leaving them to console each other in my absence.

The ominous “I’ve-missed-something” feeling is going like a hyperactive hamster sprinting on a really squeaky exercise wheel. The squeaky wheel gets the grease, right? But what to do when it’s between your ears? Slow down. Take a breath.

I check my lists of things to do. I’ve e-mailed friends and family. I’ve confirmed the car reservation. I took bags of newspapers and broken down cardboard boxes to the paper recycling bin. I typed up my itinerary complete with phone numbers and addresses for Joel. While I was packing I discovered clothes that didn't fit, so I took them all to the donation bin of the nearest thrift shop.

I check my lists of things to pack. (Please notice, I said lists plural.) I think I’ve got it all from art supplies to underwear.

There is nothing to do right now except the little stuff: eat breakfast, wash the dishes, wipe down the counter. If I finish everything I can always sit and watch the minute hand move on the kitchen clock and listen to its ticking. It’ll be time soon enough.