Packing

13 May 2010

Packing. I hate packing. It doesn't matter that packing is a precursor to a theoretically exciting moment in life - it's still a kind of distilled tidying, and as such I loathe it. After all, what's the difference between finding a home for everything by putting related objects in a draw or a filing cabinet, and putting together all the things that will be useful in the amazon basin into one backpack? It's natures evil attempt to make you organised against your will.

Islamic artists insert a deliberate flaw into anything they do, because only God is perfect. Aside from the arrogance inherent in the suggestion that without the intentional flaw their work would have been perfect, it's a concept I can relate to. Whenever I pack for a holiday, I intentionally forget one really crucial item - plane tickets, malaria medication, trousers - in order to bring me luck later on.

Actually, that's a lie. I'm just an idiot, but it was a nice idea.