A few summers ago, after returning from a family trip abroad, I set a personal record: the longest time to unpack. It took me nearly a month to empty out all the contents of my suitcase and carry-on bag.
I know I’m not alone when I say unpacking after a trip sucks. Not only is it a dreadful chore, it also signifies the very end of your vacation.
Ever since my husband and I got married and started our family more than 10 years ago, we’ve traveled almost every year to Sweden, his home country. And each time we’ve returned home, I’ve procrastinated over unpacking, a job that sounds simpler than it actually is: There’s separating clothes for laundry (that’s a whole other column), putting away those travel-sized toiletries, sorting souvenirs for family and friends, filing ticket stubs and brochures for a scrapbook that likely will never be made (another column), and properly cleaning my suitcase before storing it for another year.
I typically average a couple weeks of living out of my suitcase before the disorganization and eyesore of it all — and maybe a stubbed toe or two — compel me to finally take action.
My husband, on the other hand, is a master unpacker. Within a day, if not hours, of stepping through our front door, all of his travel items are neatly put away, and his bright yellow suitcase is stored in the back of his closet where it belongs.
It absolutely amazes me. If he were a superhero, he would be called, er, Master Unpacker. I’d cry out for him to rescue me after every trip. And he’d swoop in and save me from the evil Sir Suitcase. But in reality, I prefer to unpack my own belongings, and I always refuse help, which might be part of the problem.
Another part of the problem? I don’t just unpack for myself. I also do it for my three young daughters. That’s three extra suitcases and three extra carry-ons. So the task, already overwhelming, is increased by three, although it feels like 10, making it a hundred times more overwhelming, taking a thousand times longer to do. (I have never been good at math.)
Maybe it’s the inevitable jet lag. Maybe it’s wanting the vacation vibes to last as long as possible. Maybe it’s just plain laziness.
It was the same story after our most recent vacation last month to France. After we returned, that familiar feeling of fatigue came over me, and I was sure it would take me weeks to tackle the daunting task. But for the first time, I took an extra couple of days off from work to recuperate from our long journey and found myself motivated to get things done.
I’m happy to report that this time around I unpacked in a mere six days, setting a new personal record: the shortest time to unpack. Now on to the laundry and maybe that scrapbook.
“She Speaks” is a weekly column by the women writers of the Honolulu Star-Advertiser. Reach Zenaida Serrano at zserrano@staradvertiser.com.
