If I have a much-anticipated trip on the calendar, I wring the joy out of it by making a long list of what to wear, what to take and what to accomplish before I leave. It’s exhausting.
If I were a normal person, trips would be a lot more fun: I’d wash the night before I departed, forget something or many things, buy something(s) new, and leave the house in general disarray.
But I can’t do that. It’s…