Our big trip to Hungary and India is just a few weeks away.
You know what that means.
The lists have begun.
I’ve been throwing together lists for a while now. They just
aren’t exactly all in one place. This is because I start a list wherever I am
at the moment whenever I happen to think about something we need to do, buy, or
take. Last Sunday I had to force myself to refrain from writing “shots” on the
notepad app on my cell phone during the sermon. Not that our priest made me think
of shots – and I’m talking about inoculations, not the tequila kind of shot –
it was just one of those things that popped into my head.
Fortunately, I did remember to make that note at the end of
the service, as well as put a calendar reminder on my phone to call my doctor’s
office the next morning. Maybe I should consider making notes to recall what
the sermon was about.
Sometime last week I was up at two in the morning thinking
about some detail to include on a list. I noted it on my phone because I sure
as heck wasn’t going to get out of bed and let my feet touch the cold floor.
From there my mind wandered to things I had absolutely no control over at that
hour, such as contacting the bank and buying Immodium to pack, since we’ve been
warned numerous times that not drinking the water is no guarantee against
getting zapped with stomach issues. It was a long night.
I wish I had taken organization lessons from Second Born
before she flew to Budapest. Her lists, which included all-of-the-above plus
the financial end (and that entails three different accounts), resembles a
system NASA would be proud of. She didn’t learn that from me – that sort of
meticulous planning comes from her father’s genes without a doubt. This is why
Spouse and I don’t agree when it comes to planning projects in the house. He
sees prepping, masking, priming, and sanding before we can paint a room. I see
a can of paint and a wall. What’s the problem?
Adding something to a list seems to make it more official
and necessary. Spouse is letting me take the reins for the most part with the
lists. He may change his mind when I freak out the week before we leave and
decide we need new luggage.
Besides the restrooms on the airplane, which I may have
previously mentioned in passing (or in 600 anxious words), there is that short,
internal list of my own nervous speculations about this trip. I chalk it up to
my Italian upbringing, where worrying is right up there with eating pasta and
using your hands to talk. My sister, in her attempt to keep me from going over
the edge in my pre-travel panic, reminded me that I had flown all the way to
Hawaii by myself at one time. Please, that was 30 years and we will not be discussing
how many pounds ago.
Don’t think that all I’m doing is making lists and panicking.
Granted, that is part of my repertoire but certainly not the whole picture. Now
that Spouse and I have chosen authentic India clothing for the Love Couple’s
second ceremony, the excitement is growing stronger each day. While we are in
Budapest it will be the start of the region’s very extensive Christmas Fair,
which I am very much looking forward to, not to mention the fact that we will
see Second Born after almost three months. The fact that we will be joined by several family members in
India is a wonderful added bonus to the whole experience. There is much to be
delighted about in the coming weeks.
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