At least I didn’t pack a ball gown

When I jet off on my adventures, I tend to plan my packing (I plan everything in my life!) So last week, I check the weather forecast, look online at photos of what people wear in KL, and read a couple of travel attire blogs to make sure I was packing the right stuff. I then spend weekend (not the one just gone, but ten days ago) pulling out my summer clothes suitcase from beneath my bed, and deciding what clothes to take. I restock my mini travel toiletries and check the hotel website to see what they already provide. I check my chargers are working, review my KL rough guide and plan my itinerary. Once I’ve decided what to take, this is all piled up neatly in the corner of my room (not in my suitcase yet, unnecessary excessive creasing, obvs) and I set a task in my phone for Tuesday night to ‘pack’. I also set reminders to leave the office on time so I’m not late home, and cook enough dinner at the weekend (freezing individual portions) so I don’t have to worry about that on Tuesday night. All good, no?

I then get a call from Tabs, saying its Wills’ birthday, and am I coming out for dinner. Clearly, the logical thing in my plan is to say “No mate, I have heaps to sort tonight as I’m away tomorrow”. Unfortunately, is comes out as “Where are you? I’ll come but not a big one.” So I get home at eleven, get over-excited by birthday cards and presents, and start pulling out random clothes from my wardrobe and towing them into the mix, completely creasing all my clothes in the process.

I then sleep through my alarm and wake this morning reverting to plan A; I stuff things into my case, close my case, re-open my case, remove two t-shirts my cargo pants and a hairdryer, reclose my case, and am about to head for the door when my phone goes. It’s Tina in KL.

The conversation goes something like this:

Tina – Alejandra might have a spare ticket for Paddock Club, interested?
Me – Omg, are you serious?
Tina – yeah, let me check but should be good… You’re in. Marlborough Club with Ferrari. Ping me your email address…

At this point, I realise that the one outfit I had no trouble selecting (the standard issue teal and silver Mercedes team kit) may not go down too well with Kimi and Seb? Case open, stuff out…

After a quick decision not to sport my usual Mercedes attire, whilst not completely defecting to the opposition by buying Ferrari stash, I decide Black is the safe option, and repack accordingly.

By the time I get to work, I’ve had full details through from Tina, explaining that the dress code is ‘casual – must wear red’… Fugger. Rethink.


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