Call me unorganised...

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Oh holy mother of all things shit-related, it's Wednesday and I'm about as prepared for my holiday as I was for Steps splitting up during my teeny-bopping years. I guess I got lazy somewhere in between rekindling my love for coffee shop caramel lattes and general arsing about. I've thoroughly perfected the art of being 'busy' and therefore unable to get.shit.done. which really isn't the most beneficial skill to have acquired because here I am, on the countdown to my jollies, tear-arsing around like a mad woman with clothes strewn across every conceivable inch of my apartment and not a scheduled blog post in sight. Okay, I tell a lie, I have a few bits lined up for you guys, but seriously, I had to pull a silly number of late nighters to finish all the stuff I'd promised myself I'd finish several weeks ago. Not cool Kirsty... not cool.
If I remember rightly, I was never always this unorganised. I blame the chill that's swept in through Finland for my current snail-pace work ethic and lack of get-up-and-go. The only acceptable thing to do of an afternoon is wrap myself in as many wool blend layers and try not shuffle my feet too much across the wooden flooring  for fear of impending static shocks every time I touch anything remotely metallic. (I'm not kidding folks, this is a real first world problem of mine) I seem to always have a to-do list as long as my arm and yet I actually can't remember the last time something was scratched off. If somebody would like to tell me what I'm doing with my days then it would be greatly appreciated. Perhaps I'm one of these real life 'Sleeping Beauty' girls that you see on T.V. you know, the ones that fall asleep whilst making a tuna sandwich and wake up four days later in the bath tub, if you ignore the beauty part that is. Today is a Worzel Gummidge hair day which I'm sure I'm technically too young to remember. 
I did plan on doing the cool blogger thing and writing a super, show-offy blog post about all the fabulous things I had packed to take away with me. One of those, 'what's in my travel bag?' type posts with plentiful close ups of my flip flops and the beach bag that I never got around to buying. I guess you're stuck with this rambly post instead... Oh how I treat you guys! I cross my blogger heart that I will take a bazillion photographs whilst away, so that I can treat you to some actual, proper posting when I return, if I remember to pack my camera that is. 
Does anyone else ever think that the more they try to be organised, the more unorganised they actually become? If I so happen to make it on board that 747, (This is the only plane terminology that I know) then I'll no doubt be a little quieter than usual due to the fact that I'll be eating macaroons in Paris, which according to Instagram, is the only acceptable tourist activity these days. Wish me luck with my packing guys, (I'll need it) and I'll look forward to a hefty catch up when I return. 
Much love...