I’m currently preparing to leave Quebec, which means only one thing; it’s time to put all of my possessions into a suitcase that seems to shrink in size with each passing second. Packing also leads to one of my most loathed activities; lifting objects. My deep seated hatred of carrying anything heavier than a bag of marshmallows leads to bizarre thoughts because I will go to any lengths to lighten my load.

Around the time that my suitcase was half full, I started to question the utility of garments like underwear and whether I could justify donating them to Goodwill.

Underpants are like cars right? They’re better value when they’re used. (Photo Credit : copyblogger.com)

Or whether I actually needed hygienic items like my toothbrush. After all, I only use it twice a day- are clean teeth truly necessary? Bulky or oddly shaped objects were subject to the most scrutiny. Staring at my hairbrush, I weighed the utility of looking like a swamp monster against the additional room and decreased weight of my luggage.

So worth not carrying a hairbrush. (Photo Credit :sodahead.com)

When my suitcase was almost full, I contemplated becoming a fully-fledged hippie and going braless, however I figured this freewheeling lifestyle might not go over well at my work, thus the horror that is brassiere shopping to replace said bras won out over the reduced weight and bulk of getting rid of them.

As I laid across my suitcase, willing my body to be larger and thus able to make the zipper close, I had a long debate with myself over whether I actually needed my sweater and coat. Who needs body warmth when you can happily wheel a light suitcase through a train station? I also came |thisclose| to leaving my second pair of shoes at the Salvation Army in the name of carrying less.

Even after I dropped off all of the books I brought with me at the local second hand store, my suitcase still weighed an ungodly amount.  Scouring my possessions for anything that I could be rid of, I spotted them; my shampoo and conditioner. What right do I have to call myself the Great Unwashed when I’m schlepping cleaning products back and forth between provinces? Into the recycling bin they went. With that final act, I realized I had chucked, donated and compressed everything that I could and for better or worse my elephant sized suitcase was packed.

My suitcases once I finished packing. (Photo Credit: trekearth.com)