Tonight I was (supposed to be) packing to head to Utah for Christmas. I hate packing. It is in the top ten things I hate to do most in the world. It's on the list with cleaning the bathroom. Yeah, that bad. You might think my reluctance to pack is because I'm not excited to go. Not so, I just hate the act of packing. I would totally go with just the clothes on my back (provided I could find something I want to wear) but I know I'd just be mad I didn't have more clothes when I got there. And the bonus fun of packing to travel for Christmas is you not only have to pack clothes and toiletries, you have to cram gifts in there too. So tonight instead of packing, I wrote the following song:
(It's to the tune of "Jingle Bells")
It's ten o'clock pm
The night before I fly
I have so much to do
The night before I fly
I have so much to do
It makes me want to cry
I need to find my clothes
And somehow get my gifts
To fit inside my bag
I want to throw a fit!
Oh, packing sucks, packing sucks, packing really sucks!
Why can't I find my other shoe, for help I'd pay big bucks,
Oh packing sucks, packing sucks, packing really sucks!
I wish my clothes would fold themselves, but it seems I'm out of luck!
I know, I know, super talented, right? Still beats packing.
(And just in case you wondered, I did get my bag packed, see?)
