Oh my frakin’ God. I’m going to Africa tomorrow.
I am a total ball of nerves. Happy. Excited. Anxious (that’s a long freakin’ flight). There’s also some denial in there. Cause you know what? I’m going to Africa. Tomorrow. In case you hadn’t heard.
I’m working through the final things I need to do. Get some more allergy medicine. Change the litter box. Last load of laundry. Pedicure. Take mom to the store to load up on essentials.
For those who haven’t heard, my mom sprained her ankle on Memorial Day — in Michigan. Did nothing about it until she came home and we went to the doctor on Thursday. She is now in a boot, taking physical therapy and is unable to drive for at least three more weeks. If you’ve met my mom, you know the drama we’ve been going through the past few weeks. Thankfully, I have some really great friends-who-are-family that are going to take care of her the next two weeks for me. And I am not going to give it a second thought. Right.
I haven’t packed yet. I have tons of baggies inside of baggies for my toiletries and other necessities. I have larger bags for my clothes. I’m hoping to forgo some of that crazy digging through the bag every day by having all shirts together, pants together, etc… Yes, some call that organized. Others might call it something else all together.
In my carry-on you will find:
Other incidentals packed in the duffle: