CAREFUL PLANNING

5 September

It's 90 degrees.

I'm sitting here in a muumuu and minimal undergarments.

I have bare feet.

The fan is blowing on my face.

I have just received an e-mail. It says:

bring rainwear {g}, layers - it's definitely chilly now, and changes of shoes in case you get very wet {s}.

The writer is talking about our upcoming trip to the UK--specifically, the Orkneys, a group of islands off the northwest coast of Scotland. Latitude 59 degrees, which puts it north of Juneau and south of Anchorage. In other words--it's going to be bloody cold.

I have no warm clothes.

I don't even have warm clothes that don't fit me any more.

I do not own a coat.

I have nothing waterproof.

And...tomorrow I am driving a Breaking Barriers client, which will take most of the day. The next day I'm taking my mother to lunch for her birthday. The next day I have a doctor's appointment and am reviewing a show. This brings me to Saturday for shopping and we leave on Monday.

I believe in living life on the edge.

Actually, this is so much on the edge that I might end up having to do my shopping for warm clothes in London.

It is conceivable, in a perfect world, that all could fall into place and I could actually find winter clothes and coats easily with the weather in the 90-100 range. However, add to that the fact that I'm not exactly an "off-the-rack" kinda girl. And if Omar the Tentmaker doesn't have his winter line in yet, I may be out of luck.

And then there's that "bring extra shoes in case they get wet." Uh.....remember how long it took me to finally find shoes? I finally have "shoes." "EXTRA shoes" is a luxury I can't even conceive. Maybe I'll try to find some cheap tennies and just throw them away when we get home, and hope that 2 weeks in cheap shoes won't destroy my feet too much.

I have to admit that I have barely unpacked from our last trip to England and I've been blissfully ignoring this upcoming trip. Who goes to England twice in one year? Somehow I've just kept thinking of it as "oh--sometime in the future..." But suddenly it's here and I am woefully unprepared.

But what else is new? Never at any time have I been prepared for a major vacation. It's usually grab whatever is clean and on top of the pile and throw it in the suitcase as Walt is out warming up the car. But this time we're going somewhere that really is going to require just a tad bit of thought and preparation--and warmth. Argh... Why do I do this to myself?

We live close to factory outlet stores. If I can find the time, that's a possibility. But I hate shopping. I really, really hate shopping. I mean really, really. I don't mind when I'm with someone else who is shopping, but I hate shopping for myself. It means standing in those rooms with all those mirrors. Argh.

It means taking what you think is an embarrassingly large thing off the rack, and discovering you can't quite squeeze into it.

It means finally finding the one thing that fits and discovering it costs more than you've paid for anything in your life, and trying to balance need against cost. And you hate the thing anyway, but it fits and you're leaving for England in two days and it's the only thing you've found all day that fits.

That's one reason why I've put off getting anything for so long. But I can't put it off any longer. D-day is upon us, just about. Two shows to review and then we're outta here.

I have to gird my loins, grit my teeth, get into the car, march into a store and just do it.

I hate this.