And while I sleep, per'chance to dream...

I'm struggling to go back to sleep and catch a last few desperately needed minutes in the grey twilight of what promises to be another glorious autumn morning.  Instead my to-do list of shopping, packing and work projects that must be completed before leaving for England are running through my head in the peculiar (and unwanted at 6 am) energy buzz unique to overwhelming stress. Is it unusual to be leaving on a 2 1/2 month trip in less than 72 hours and not be packed yet? Apparently so, from the reactions of people I talk to.  But then, the pants must be hemmed and the clothes must be CLEAN before being packed-outcomes yet to be achieved. And it is also highly recommended that one pack climate appropriate clothing specific to one's destination. I have a permanent puzzled frown outdoors these days, as I try to guess...how cold is 60? Do I like 60? What about 50? Sweater, jacket, coat, parka? (The average in England for Oct-Nov is 45-60 degrees). Not to mention the brutal triage that must be practiced on all of my lovely, newly-fitting clothes. Since I lost weight I am in love with the way I look in everything (59 pounds off your butt can make you a faulty judge of which pants looks best...as they ALL look MUCH better!). Ergo, I want to pack all-of-them, and have resorted to using my sister in Alabama as the triage enforcer via face-time. It's just that this unwieldy packing method takes yet more time. I'm starting to have nightmares about missing our transatlantic flight. Meanwhile, Richard has nightmares of his own. I finally surrender to the stress and rise, although my angst-filled tossing has already awoken him. Upon my return from the bathroom he turns to me and says "I was dreaming I was dying of exposure! Then I woke up and looked over, and all the blankets were wrapped around YOU."