If you called me a procrastinator, I would say guilty as charged. Most of the time I am distracted by lines of poetry and prose that I compose while I’m washing the dishes, cooking dinner, grading essays, lesson planning, and a multitude of activities where I’d rather be doing something else. Tonight that activity is packing. In all reality, I know I should’ve already packed for the trip, but I at least made a checklist of what I wanted to take so I’m not completely behind schedule.
The sheer excitement I feel pulsating through my veins is the same excitement I would feel climbing into bed on Christmas evening. The excitement that no matter how tight you squeeze your eyes shut hoping to fall asleep you can’t. At least not until that sweet exhaustion anticipation has caught up with you and you drift off, a small smile still playing at the corners of your lips. However, the nap after opening presents is the soundest, most peaceful rest of the year. That will be me tomorrow about 6pm as we take off from Chicago O’Hare on an eight hour flight to Amsterdam.
For now, it’s the night before Amsterdam, and I am letting visions of tulips dance in my head:
‘Twas the night before Amsterdam, when all through the house
I was frantically searching for the perfect blouse.
The luggage stood empty; the clothes were not there.
I has to de-fuzz them as they were covered in corgi hair.
Final arrangements were made, itineraries were reread
When all I wanted was to sleep in my bed.
The hotel and “must see’s” were checked on the map.
A forte for planning would ensure no mishap.
When all of a sudden I squealed with laughter.
This anxious excitement was all procrastination blabber.
Tomorrow the adventure starts; it’s sure to be blissful.
But if I don’t get some sleep it will be more like abysmal!
So, I leave these words with you before I settle down for the night-
“Happy to travels to all, and to all a good flight!”
Unbound 