The countdown gets real. Nine away.

Nine more days and away I go to Paris! It’s nine days too soon. I have not bought my travel insurance nor changed currency nor planned my days there (still!!) since I last said I would nine days back. Come, let me clap for myself.

What I did do was to get packing. Since I’ll be flying in alone, I decided to place my clothes into the hand carry luggage which would go into my check-in one. This was what my first “draft” looked like.

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So many clothes, so little space.

Uh oh. Something tells me I’m in deep shit. This is not even all the clothes I’m bringing. There are currently eight pairs of jeans/pants in there. He laughed at me when I told him and said he only brought six pairs for three months worth of travel. But I’m not you. I’m a vain pot, and I AM going to the fashion capital of the world….. Did I also mention I have to work all this into a 23kg baggage limit? Great.

Think I’ll need to change my strategy. I most likely will remove some pairs of pants and bring more monochrome tops (which I actually hardly own) then accessorise with scarves and outer wear instead. I previously also assured him I wouldn’t bring any skirts or dresses but oops, looks like I might break my promise (sorry!). I can always wear them on days he’s not with me, yes?

My sweet friend also gave me a crash course on basic French so that I wouldn’t look like a complete idiot. I sometimes have trouble with my mother tongue, let alone a third language. Good luck.

Nine days. Oh gosh seems like I still have lots to do. I better start preparing a to-do list or something lest I forget anything important. I must must must have the utmost perseverance and willpower to say no to any drinking this weekend until I’m done with packing and (at least some) planning. Why I placed importance on the drinking is because plans were already kinda made last weekend while I was drinking. I must be strong.

Nine days before I can forget all about work for a month! Eat all the croissants and macarons and cheese and drink copious amounts of wine till I can’t button my jeans! Still contemplating bringing running gear. I’m terrified at the thought of putting tons of weight there. Bonjour Paris!

xoxoxoxo.

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