Missing the trip for the luggage (or: Why yes, I am obsessive compulsive. Why do you ask?)

For some reason this morning I decided to get out my old luggage and make sure it would work for my trip to Europe three months from now. It became obvious immediately that my current suitcase wasn’t going to do the job. Not due to size, weight, or style problems though. Unfortunately it seems that my darling cat mistook it for a urinal at some point. Great. (On a totally unrelated note, does anyone want a cat?)

So now I am faced with the challenge of finding a new piece of luggage. “Not a big deal,” I thought. “I’ll just check online to see what is available.”

Four hours later I awoke from my google stupor only to find out I was no closer to a decision than I had been when I started. Apparently my previous knowledge of luggage was woefully lacking. So many decisions! I tried to clear my head of the numbers swirling around. Liters of capacity, linear inches, carrying load.

All of a sudden I realized how ridiculous it all was. Sitting in a pile of Pro and Con lists, still in my pajamas, in the middle of the afternoon. Another list (the one of stuff I wanted to get done today) sadly neglected.

Why do I become so obsessed with these little details? I’m sure any number of the bags would be suitable. Somehow I always seem to keep searching beyond what is reasonable. It’s as if I think there is a perfect answer waiting out there. If I just. Keep. Searching. The perfect suitcase, the perfect camera, the perfect trip, the perfect _____ (you fill in the blank).

The perfect life. Is that what I’m really looking for? Reality is that every choice (suitcase related or not) has pros and cons. I will never find a suitcase that will fit a million things and still not break my back to carry. It seems that I was looking for a magic bag, a Mary Poppins-like bag. (Which would be so awesome by the way, wouldn’t it!)

Hmm. Guess the next step is to stop looking for the magical (and un-attainable) perfect life and just make a decision. I miss a lot of good things in life when I'm searching for the perfect life.

Comfort

I have a confession to make, I never grew up. It’s true. Today I was thinking about all the things that make me feel better when I’m tired or stressed, and they’re the same things kids do. For example my favorite blanket that I snuggle with each night. I feel safe when it’s wrapped around me, like a shield. I watch the same movie over and over and repeat the lines in everyday life. (My film of choice: Pride and Prejudice, the BBC version. I watch it at least once a month). I love my Eeyore flannel PJ’s, so comfy. And don’t get me started on comfort food.

Why do these familiar things make me feel so much better? What is it about routines that is so comforting? Whatever it is, I like it. So, tonight will find me wearing Eeyore PJ’s, snuggled under my blanket, watching movies, and eating nachos. Life is good.