I Hate Packing

If my mom was here this never would have happened. But she's not, and here I am, 8 hours before I need to get up for a 30 hour trip, and I haven't even started packing.
It's something I've always hated - figuring out what you'll need for a week and a half. Trying on clothes to make sure you still look okay in them even though you just wore them a week ago, then folding them neatly so that they don't get wrinkled, then strategically placing it in a suitcase so that it all fits. I usually don't forget things, but always feel like I do, thus worry about it the whole way. I get to where ever I'm going and by the time I'm completely unpacked, it's time to pack again.
Instead of just packing, I call my sister and talk to her about how I hate packing. Then Jake calls. "You packed yet?" he asks.
"Haven't even started," I reply.
If I would have started when I got home I would be done now. But I didn't and I still haven't. Ggrrrr.
I hate packing.