Brenna's been packing since Sunday for Australia. Most of our personal items are arranged around the house in patterns which I assume have a metaphysical component - perhaps they focus H-waves, like a lens. I used to try and help with this process, until I realized that the best way to help was not to touch nothin'. When I pack, it's like, I put as many underwears in as I have days, and one pair of pants regardless of the trip's duration, and as many identical black shirts as are currently clean. I think of my backpack like a diving bell, or something: I'm not trying to live there, wherever it is, it simply furnishes whatever is required to exist wherever I happen to be going.
