The Sherpa Thinks Aloud

I usually pride myself on packing for trips like a streamlined sherpa. The above picture shows all the earthly possessions I brought on an eight-month tour of Middle Earth. Alright, that's a lie, it was only a seven-month tour, but you get the idea.

Of course, most sherpas don't go out for frozen yogurt after the meeting and cavort around the house at all hours of the night when they are about to leave the country in a few hours. At least, I don't think they do. They probably would if they could though. The point is, it's very late, I'm very late, and the plane simply isn't going to wait.

Where are we going? We're going here. When are we going? In a little more than 12 hours. Why am I writing this now? Because I'm a procrastinating sherpa. I think the fact I intend on remaining stationary once landed instead of being on the move has obliterated my good intentions of packing light. That, and the sleep deprivation. Hence, I am bring lots and lots of potentially unnecessary things, which is potentially against everything I believe in.

Zoe came over and gave me a crash course in tamale making so I would be sure not to starve to death. Also, so that I can sell tamales on the street when times get tough. There are tamales. There are always tamales.

Alright. It's time. Hopefully the next time we speak, circumstances will be ideal. Meaning: I will be done packing. I will be in Mexico. And I will have eaten tamales.