It comes in waves, growing slowly, then seemingly exponentially, before reaching a fever pitch — the anxiety. Is my packing list good? Did I over shoot and include too much? Why does this suitcase weigh so damn much?! Maybe I should pack older socks and then dispose of them before I come back, leaving more space for… notebooks? cat toys? trinkets? a camera? Then, crashing down, feelings splitting into infinite foam.

There's room to breathe in between the waves cresting. Room to consider the purpose of the travel, the "why" animating the packing, the decisions that lead up to this moment. For me, it often takes days to prepare for travel, but especially so when that travel is international. I feel like every trip is bespoke; I have to evaluate everything I pack again… and again. Not truly necessary, this is why checklists exist, right? But here I am again, a little less than a year since the first trip to Asia, doing the same thing.

Last year, the complexity originated in the high variation in climates. Ho Chi Minh City is warm in December and January, surprisingly so. Chengdu? Cool and damp. Istanbul? Brrrr.

Usually at the end of a trip, I look back and truly understand the needless worry. I had time to wash the socks. I easily re-wore the jeans more than typical and it wasn't a problem. What, me worry? Naw.

Logically, I understand that this is all practice. Putting the repetitions in builds confidence and the ability to flex within the confines of a set of flights. "More like this", I think. "More practice."

Now, where is my damn passport?