It's 11:15 at night, and I am wearing a white dress, blue scarf and way to much jewelry. My bed is overflowing with clothes and an empty suitcase, I've eaten my way through half a box of chocolates. Yep, I'm packing.
I've been trying to pack all night, actually. I should know by now that I need at least a week to get ready. Instead I'm running on last minute panick, and desperatly trying to remember how I feel about my clothes.
I never seem to hit the balance right, my cloths are good for me and New York, but I always land in Florida and realize, hmmm to bright or something. oh well.