Panic! Don't Panic!

Conditioned responses are all very well, but there has to be a way to switch them off, surely! Candles can be blown out, electric lights switched off, but my body is now extremely apt to fly into panic mode at the least provocation. This morning's attack was triggered by the news that the larger sum I am paying to the family had not arrived in the trust account, and then of course I had to telephone them to find out what they were doing. I am now assured that it will be there tomorrow morning, so have calmed down somewhat, but my heart is still pounding away rather too energetically for my liking. On my return I will have to tame this automatic panic reaction.

Never mind. I  am dining with a friend tonight, and apart from that, am letting my panic bestow itself on my packing. All these last minute decisions!  What can I do without? How many pairs of shoes do I need? Suppose it rains heavily all the time? Suppose it snows again? Suppose it is much too warm? Suppose all these conditions apply, and therefore a wardrobe for all seasons seems the prudent way to act. It looks as though it will be the larger suitcase that comes with me. Which books and how many of them should I take? Should I select books I think could be left behind in Italy? If they can be left behind, why bother with them in the first place? Decisions, decisions!

I had to go out today to return my library book, which I did not finish, being engrossed instead in a Maggie O'Farrell book which In this life (thanks, Isabelle)  recommended, so while I was at it, so to speak, went to the nearby mega-complex and bought yet another shawl, in fetching shades of pink and blue. It was my intention to get purple, but there were no purple ones available. How the mind can trick you into quite unintended actions....

By the time toiletries, cosmetics and medicines are all put into the luggage, the mind seems overcome by details. Which is doubtless why I sit here composing, instead of Getting On With Things.

Time for dinner and a glass of wine.

I shall return later!

And here I am back again, after a very pleasant farewell dinner with my friend. I almost got her lost on the way home, taking off completely in the wrong direction, but somehow we realised that going downhill was not the way to go. Why do things look so totally different when it is dark, and, more to the point, why does my brain get so totally addled so easily? If I cannot find my way home from two blocks away, how will I manage to walk around Turin?

Here's hoping. Buon viaggio a me!