Freak Scene

Procrastination is my bag. Like in an almost scary, this-girl-has-a-real-problem sort of way. If such a thing as PA (Procrastinator's Anonymous) existed, I'd be the charter member. This unfortunate habit of mine makes anything involving preparation a real drag. Take packing. I have, traditionally, packed at the last possible minute just about every time I've gone out of town.

And right now, it's the night before I leave, and I am totally packed. I'm panicking regardless: malaria! enters my mind and won't leave. Then malaria! is joined by the fear that I will be totally friendless and lonely in India and all the other people attending KYM will hate me. Not totally crazy enough?

I am convinced I will arrive sans toothbrush.