Pre-Trip Chaos: Packing, Panicking, and Overthinking

Alright, so I’ve got a trip coming up. Not some quick weekend getaway where you throw a hoodie and a toothbrush into a backpack and hope for the best — this one actually requires some planning. Some… responsibility.

And no, I’m not stressed. I’m excited. I’m looking forward to it. But my brain is currently playing a 24/7 background music of “Don’t forget that... wait, what was I just doing?”

I keep making mental checklists, then forgetting what was on them five seconds later. I’ll be brushing my teeth and suddenly think, “I should charge my power bank,” then immediately walk out of the bathroom and start folding clothes I didn’t need to fold. It’s just that pre-trip brain fog — where there are about 400 small tasks and you’re trying to do all of them at once, and somehow none of them get fully done.

Packing? Yeah… It’s happening, kind of. At this point, it’s less “packing” and more “strategically placing clothes near a suitcase and hoping they crawl in on their own.” There’s a suitcase open on my floor that’s basically just become a suggestion box. Some stuff made it in, some is just vibing around it. I pack like I’m preparing for three different climates and maybe a surprise wedding. And somehow, I’ll still forget the one thing I actually need. I can already feel it.

Work? I’m rushing to finish everything so no one’s stuck wondering where I disappeared to. I’m answering emails like it’s the last minute and pretending I’m way more productive than I actually am. My work bag stays home and I don't care if it collects dust for the next few weeks. After that, I’m totally off the grid — no emails, no calls, no “Hey, quick question.”

The second I get on that flight, my memory of work responsibilities will vanish like a Snapchat. Gone. Zero guilt. I will transform into a person who has never typed an email in his life. They’ll be like “hey, quick question about—” and I’ll be mid-air, watching a Korean movie.

Now, in the middle of all that… is the fridge.
Yes. The pre-trip fridge cleansing. A beautiful tradition that consists of me eating food I don’t even want because I refuse to come home to a science experiment in a Tupperware.

I’ve been standing in front of the fridge every night like, “Okay… do I want to eat this leftover rice from four days ago or this half jar of hummus that’s probably fine but also maybe not?” No. I want neither. And yet, I am forcing down weird combinations like cold pasta and baby carrots just so I don’t have to throw them out. This is not a meal. I call it authentic "Survival Cuisine".

Honestly, it’s not even about avoiding waste anymore — it’s about pride. I will eat those random leftovers and that sad bag of spinach. But at the same time, I’m trying to avoid giving myself food poisoning right before a flight. So now I am sniffing things and playing a high-stakes game of "Will this give me Diarrhoea"?

And then, of course, there’s the house cleaning phase.
If you’ve never cleaned your entire home like your landlord is coming over with a white glove while you're about to catch a flight — are you even travelling? I don’t know what it is. I just cannot leave my place a mess. My flight could be at 6 am, and you’ll still find me vacuuming at midnight. I know — it’s very unlike a guy, but I need to come back to a clean house.

Because I refuse — absolutely refuse — to walk back into a house that smells like abandoned dreams and decomposing vegetables. I want to come back from my trip and feel like I’m entering a luxury Airbnb, not a crime scene.

So yeah. That’s where I’m at. Somewhere between productivity and complete mental freefall. Not stressed, just… involved. Involved in too many things.

But somehow, despite the chaos — the lists, the errands, the mental tabs — I know it’ll all come together. It always does. Maybe I’ll forget something minor. Maybe someone will email me while I’m in a different time zone and I’ll pretend I never saw it. Either way, once I’m up in the air, it’s game over for responsibility.

I’ll deal with whatever I forgot when I land. For now, I’m just trying to make it to takeoff without losing my charger or my mind.

Catch you on the other side of the boarding gate- possibly sleep-deprived, definitely overpacked, and 100% done with adulting.