they call it prep work

if there is one thing i hate more than filling out forms,
its packing.

my god i hate packing.


the last time i attempted life as an alien, mum and dad picked, folded, packed and wrapped everything up for me and sent me on my way like I'm a christmas present for a nasty 5 year old brat. All I did was picked what I wanted to wear. But then again, they were the ones that decided that I go, they were the ones that arranged the flight tickets and everything else that had to be arranged. Like I'm a superstar and they my manager. 18 year old me was so relunctant to go that I immersed myself in work and avoided all the packing I can.

This time around, I avoided all the packing I can again, or so mum noted. Everytime she said its time to pack, I had people to have drinks with or Vinyls to stick on my room wall. At least my room looks cool now!

Until the (mid)night before, I avoid till I cannot avoid no more, I had to pick, fold, pack and wrap everything up on my own, and they stand and watch. Heck dad didn't even peep at my bag. Like I've downgraded from superstar to the superstar's assistant with no self respect.

Serves me right for having an itchy butt and legs that cannot stay where they are eh? I arranged and payed for everything on my own. Who knew international arrangements requires so much work. heh. heh. At least dad was kind enough to sponsor me a (really good) camera :)

People keep asking me if im excited to be going, and all i can say is "no rasa". I picked the wrong time to go, but they say no matter which planes crashes and what boat capsized, life has to go on. So i went on with mine, though filled with guilt, and relunctancy that i did not forsee.

oh by the way, if you didnt know yet, im en route to Mauritius! :)