so, have you ever?

..attempted to weigh a suitcase by the old "lift and guess" method? I spent last night dead-lifting two large suitcases, trying to figure out whether or not they were over the fifty-pound limit for my flights. I would buy a scale, but then I would have to pack that as well.
There's a funny part of packing, the leaving behind, that always sets off weird nostalgic feelings in me. Even about shampoo. What if I want my coconut-scented shampoo instead of the "gentle" unscented shampoo I had already packed? What about the shirt I left behind (I know I'm not going to wear it, but what if I want to?) I'm sure I could buy one in England if I had to--but then I would be buying something I already have that I just wasn't clever enough to magically know I would need. Plus, of course, it would have all of those tricky words like "neighbor" and "honor" misspelled.
This nostalgia may be my form of trip-anxiety because I *mostly* love traveling; although it has gotten a little excruciating with all of the standing in line that goes on.(I especially like traveling when said traveling involves visiting Pete).
I also love my little house and my life in SoCal, though, and I think my conviction that I will need one of the very few things I leave behind is a response to being sad about leaving them at all.
Luckily, at this point, my books are wending there way to Manchester ahead of me--so I didn't have to leave any of them behind. I always end up with a layer of books in each suitcase, a few in the carry-on, and at least four dumped into the car on the way to the airport to make room for things like, you know, toothpaste. And then I read them all, and then I haul them all back to the U.S. Not this time! This time my books get to settle in before me--I won't join them permanently until November. As long as I have Pete and them, I'm sure I won't feel like I need my coconut shampoo.