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I have a superb packing algorithm. I can pack my magic blue bag (think “Felix the Cat’s bag”) with seven days worth of clothes in under five minutes. This used to annoy Amy since she believes that packing should expand to fill all available time until you must leave for the airport right now damnit now now now but she has mellowed with age.
I always either wear my running shoes or pack my running shoes since – well – I’m endlessly training for a marathon. I got up at 4am yesterday, speed packed, and flew to Las Vegas. I wore dress shoes on the plane since I had a meeting in the morning and then kept them on all day since the gang I was with (aka “The Last Horseman Down Bachelor Party”) went out to a nice restaurant last night.
Imagine my surprise this morning when I went to grab my running shoes and discovered another pair of dress shoes. I stood stunned for a minute in my running clothes, trying to process what to do next. Eventually, I realized I had a day off.
I think this is the first time this has ever happen to me in 20+ years of travel as a grownup.