Searching through dresser drawers yesterday, I found a small book that I had made with Connie's help, during her bookmaking phase. I had written one long entry in it, July 2003. I'm not sure if it was the style or subject of the writing that surprised me. The whole thing was about my feelings. So I've been thinking today-- this blog is about what I do each day. I no longer write about feelings or thoughts. Is it just because I've been sick of some sort for nearly two months now? Are my feelings muted? Have I replaced being with doing?
So my thoughts today were mostly worry-- I always want to travel with the perfect combination of items to be neither overprepared nor underpacked. I went for a swim after work (it's been a while) and it wasn't much fun, but the water felt warm and nice. I tried to force my mind to analyze my bag design, so that I can finally push through and freaking work on the thing, but it was nigh impossible to keep count of strokes, breathing, and laps and anything else at all. Erik and I went to see "Forgetting Sara Marshall" with free passes he got. It was entertaining, but most of all the Hawaiian setting made me feel like I was already for vacation. Until I remember that it's only Monday and I have four packed days to go.