Mefloquine Mind Games

Things are off to a slow start here in Cambridge. I'm sitting in my pajamas amongst power adapters, anti-bacterial wipes, Immodium AD, and enough tampons to float a raft, and I've just realized that I forgot to take the Larium that was supposed to be started three days ago. This is no good as I've already been afflicted with malaria once before, and the memory of being ridiculously hot-cold-nauseated-weak-cranky seared itself with stunning clarity into my five-year old brain and I have no desire to repeat the experience. I hurriedly pop a pill as Nelly calls to go over what I should be packing ("You should take a pillowcase," she says. "Because I always get lice over there." Oh good God.)

I am leaving in three days. I am just now realizing how horrible I am at packing clothing for trips. When I'm at home, it routinely takes me at least two tries to get dressed every morning; I suffer from CCC (chronic clothing crisis). For five weeks in India, so far I have set aside white jeans (I like that Gap commercial), three silky going out shirts, gold sandals, a red sparkly top, and two pairs of jeans. Somehow I don't think this will cut it. I throw my Broncos t-shirt onto the pile and weirdly it doesn't really look any better. Hmmm.

Not sure what else I need...and now I'm hungry...