I have a confession to make.

Packing or, more specifically, unpacking is not my thing.

I will do almost anything to get out of unpacking a suitcase. After I started uni five years ago, I began more or less just living out of a series of suitcases, regularly just plucking items out and assuming that eventually if I used enough clothes, it would sort of unpack itself. Plus, as a bonus by the end of the term or summer, I would already have got a headstart on my packing to go back! (Inevitably, I bring a certain number of items I haven’t used, seen, thought about, or liked in years that I know will lie forever at the bottom of the suitcase but as I pack, I’m struck by the thought “What if I need lime green leg warmers and a cowboy hat?!” And, to be honest, that does sound like a good time outfit.)

By the time I had graduated uni, however, this system revealed a fatal flaw. By then, I had accumulated what could only be described as a monument to my own disgusting laziness. This was a mountain of clothes about a foot high, built on a foundation of opened suitcases and constantly subject to landslides, eruptions, and other natural disasters. It blocked access to half of my room. It became a struggle to open the curtains as my shoes had somehow pooled around the mountain (as lava must from a volcano) and trust me when I say that those are quite the tripping hazard.

Eventually, I gave in. It got to be Christmas 2010. The pile had begun in December 2006. We’d had a good run, Mount Crapsmore and I, but all good things must come to an end. OK, it was because Matt was coming for Christmas and I am deeply ashamed of the solvenly way I live. Sadly, Matt stayed on a camp bed in my room and after that, well, I never quite got round to packing up the bed…it was a really good place to leave the discarded but still possibly good outfits. Pretty sure my room hasn’t seen natural sunlight on a regular basis since sometime in 2008 and that aint changing now.

So that takes us to tonight. Tonight Crap Mountain’s cousin, The River of Discarded Items, must be tackled if I am ever to pack yet another suitcase but this time for Korea. I need access to the other side of my room (and there’s probably some good stuff in there!)

Friends, this may well be the last entry you see from me, for the road is rough and beset on both sides with dangers. The process may well take days, and I will likely emerge a changed character from the things I may see. Pray for me.

‘Cause seriously, I frickin hate packing.