Packing Stress Quotes

I travel with a lot of clothes, which is a really bad idea because it's such a nightmare to travel. I always overpack because I like to bring things with me, and I accumulate stuff, so it piles up. I travel with everything I own.

That was the trouble with moving houses; no matter how carefully you packed the books, they never ended up on the new shelves in quite the right place.

Every time I travel, I'm in a rage until I reach my destination. I find myself shouting at suitcases, as if it's their fault that I'm an inefficient packer. I've also learnt that whenever you despair of humanity and start thinking that you hate people - as I frequently do - you only have to travel to realise that people are basically all right.

To me, the most worrisome part of traveling comes before any of the traveling actually occurs: the suitcase-packing process. It's a challenging and anxiety-filled process - I am caught between wanting my suitcase to be light and worrying I am going to need every single item in my bedroom.

I'm staying in a lovely hotel, dressing robe behind the door, lovely fluffy sheets - took me a half an hour getting my suitcase closed.

I'm home about two days a month, and on those I have to pack.

The Ultimate Day really begins the night before, when you sit up until one o'clock trying to get things into trunk and bags. This is when you discover the well-known fact that summer air swells articles to twice or three times their original size.

If I'd known how much packing I'd have to do, I'd have run again.

Sometimes I have a nervous breakdown over my suitcase - over socks - because your brain just goes, 'I just can't pack again. I can't.' You're looking at your suitcase going, 'I'm in five countries in two weeks, and it's four different seasons.' That's when my brain melts.

Let's say you have to catch a plane, and you are packing your suitcase and moving fast. Most people would call that stress. Most people live stressed like that all the time.

One of the great natural phenomena is the way in which a tube of toothpaste suddenly empties itself when it hears that you are planning a trip, so that when you come to pack it is just a twisted shell of its former self, with not even a cubic millimeter left to be squeezed out.

I have learnt that I am incapable of packing the right amount of clothing, probably because I start 10 minutes before I'm supposed to leave, and that I truly hate airports.