6 Tips for People Who Hate Packing for “Vacation”

Or, how to ensure you bring more than just your underwear but less than the contents of your entire house when traveling

They say that planning for a vacation can make people just as happy as–if not more happy than–going on the vacation itself. I think “they” must be neurotypical.

As a person who is highly visually-oriented, and whose ADHD manifests itself in impaired working memory (among other traits), I have a hard time preparing—and especially packing—for vacations. In regular life, I rarely know what I’m supposed to be doing at any given time. Thus, I rely tremendously on my surroundings and routines to prompt my behaviors.

Because I depend on things being where I’ll most benefit from them, I’ve invested time and energy into setting up my home environment just so. Every morning, I wake up to our trusty Zojirushi water boiler on my bedside table, ready for that first mug of hot or warm water. I bank on finding my clothes in the dresser or closet (or, lbh, the laundry basket full of yet-to-be-folded clean clothes). When I’m not traveling, I know that my medications will be next to the pour-over coffeemaker, where I’ll be sure to remember to take them, 92% of the time. (100% of the time, I will drink the Sumatra next to the aforementioned medications.) 

When I’m not on vacation, I don’t have to worry that I’ll accidentally forget what my hobbies are, because through the course of a regular day, I’ll pass by stacks of books in various nooks of the house. I have all the things I need, where I need them. (And by “where I need them”, I mean, within the four walls of my house. I don’t actually know where where I last put the scissors.)

When faced with an opportunity to travel, the anticipation I feel about getting a vacation is quickly eclipsed by the anxiety of having to part with my beloved home set-up. 

In an ideal world, we’d just order a bouquet of balloons ala Pixar’s Up and transport our residence en masse. Barring that possibility, my second choice is to pack a month in advance so I can put up my feet and relax, since I certainly won’t be doing any of that on vacation. My husband has told me that neither of these options are realistic, so all that’s left is to just not go on the stupid vacation.

Writing a list seems like the answer, but to someone with ADHD, a packing list is problematic because it’s simultaneously bossy and impossible to satisfy. You can’t pack the most critical things for a trip–—phone, wallet, keys—until the millisecond before departure. 

Since receiving my ADHD diagnosis almost two years ago, I’ve tried to pay attention to what I can do to make packing for trips easier for me. I have a differently-wired brain (on top of suffering from younger-sibling-syndrome), so there are a lot of mental obstacles to overcome.

Here are six strategies I recently made up to personalize the packing process for my unique brain. Hopefully you’ll find something helpful here if you, too, love to hate on vacations.

Note: Each strategy is followed by a tl;dr.

#1. The Scorched Earth strategy.

If you don’t feel like making a bossy packing list but know that you need one, take out a piece of paper and list out just two or three things. These are the two or three things you absolutely CANNOT forget to pack, such as your driver’s license (or passport) and your medications, if you take any. This is your bare minimum, scorched earth packing list.

Are these things the only things you’ll really bring? No, but it shows you that in the worst-case scenario where you only manage to pack—if you can even call this packing—three things, you’ll still be able to literally go on the trip. You may not have your cell phone (remember when we used to travel without these?) and you might have to buy some new underwear, but you will live.

You might end up with less money, but you’ll live.

At this point in this experiment, the part of your brain that doesn’t want to pack knows what the trade-off is. You can either (a) not sweat the stupid packing and part with some of your hard-earned money, or (b) sweat a little and keep the money you’ve been saving up for that Dyson stick vacuum. Either way, you’re gonna make it out alive. 

tl;dr There’s actually no need to pack at all for this trip! Just set an alarm on your phone for an hour before your departure time to pocket your driver’s license and debit card (and make sure you have $$$ in the account to pay for everything else you don’t want to pack). (Hey, you get to bring your phone now, too!)

#2. The Make-a-New-List strategy.

A lot of common advice says to reference a/your standard/previous packing list. For me, I find myself avoiding looking at or using my old lists because it’s boring to follow a list I’ve written before.

But then, it also seems silly to rewrite a packing list every time, especially if it’s for the same type of travel (e.g., solo trip, trip with family to a place we return to every summer, etc.). Yet, inevitably, I’ve found it helps me to write a new list almost every time I travel. It sounds terribly inefficient, but so is staring at your toes and thinking about how much you hate packing. (Or finding old lists that you won’t follow anyway when you find them.)

If you’re anything like me, you don’t want to be told what to do. So, be the boss. Take out a brand new sheet of paper or open a new Excel spreadsheet and make a new list. Ignore the naysayers who are telling you that’s inefficient. If they really cared so much about efficiency, they’d have packed your bag for you already.

tl;dr If you are disgusted/insulted/repulsed by using an old packing list, just write a new one! You’re the boss!

#3. The Semi-Sorted List strategy.

(This strategy works if you have a list longer than the Scorched Earth list, and works well in Excel, where you can utilize the Sort function.)

In this strategy, add a column to your packing list called “When To Pack”. Sorting your list in order of when an item can be packed reduces friction when it’s time to do the actual packing. You’ll be able to make progress on the list rather than wasting your time arguing with your list about how it’s making life impossible and vacations are dumb. Instead of putting your wallet—which you can’t actually pack yet—at the top of the list, you might list your swimsuit, or a few outfits you can live without for a week.

[The only problem with this type of sorting is that, as mentioned above, the important things end up at the bottom of the list. With these few items (see Scorched Earth Strategy above), you can simply re-write them at the top of the list (e.g., “If nothing else, I MUST bring these things: x, y, z”). It’s redundant, yes, but sometimes it helps just to know that the important things won’t be forgotten. You could also set a digital reminder (or calendar event) to make sure you have x, y, and z packed the night before your flight.]

tl;dr Sort your list by putting the things you can take action on earlier, earlier in your list.

#4. The Delegating-To-Yourself strategy.

Unfortunately/eventually, there comes a time when you actually have to pack things. I know, I’m sorry, I really am. This is the boring (and therefore challenging) part. This is the part where I realize, much to my chagrin, that writing the lists was actually the fun part.

Here’s what goes on in my head when I start trying to pack from my list: I guess I should start by getting my suitcase. But it’s in the shed and I don’t want to walk all the way there, plus it’s raining. Okay, fine, what else is on my list? Hmm, sunglasses? That sounds reasonable since I won’t need those until the trip… but wait, they’re out in the car (inthe aforementioned rain). And I can’t pack my journal or this book I’m reading because still want access to it for a few more days. I guess I can’t pack anything yet.

Sound familiar? We look at our lists and feel defeated. Knowing where to start over-taxes our decision-making muscles. Moreover, we anticipate that our lists will send us to different rooms of the house where we are bound to get distracted and derailed.

I know, now you’re worried I’m going to tell you to “just power through it.” Surprise! I’m not gonna, coz I like and respect you.

Instead, I suggest this: scan your list, skipping over items that you have any resistance to, and highlight one item that you feel you could, theoretically, pack. Surely, on the list there is one thing you could, theoretically, go get and pack. Highlight that item. But, don’t go get it yet. (Don’t you dare go get it.) Now, find another item to highlight. (Don’t get that either yet. Patience, young Padawan.) And then find one last item to highlight. That was easy, right?

Finally: go pack those three easy things and reward yourself with a cookie. (Big projects get completed one bite at a time, right?)

In this strategy, we batch all (or at least three instances of) the thinking together and then we batch the doing. This allows our brains to stay in flow for a few moments. Doing this only three items at a time allows us to not rely on our ADHD brains to sequence over an extended period of time, and we get to experience a relatively quick win.

tl;dr Sort your list in order of when you can pack each item. Select and highlight three of the easiest items to pack (skipping over any that you have any resistance to for whatever reason), one at a time. Then go grab the three items and reward yourself with the next episode of The Summer I Turned Pretty.

#5. The Visualize-How-This-Will-Be-Worth-It strategy.

If you’re still stuck and cannot, for the life of you, make any progress on packing, try this strategy.

Take a moment to envision the place (and spaces) you’re going to and imagine what types of self-care will be accessible to you. Will you get to soak up some sun on the beach? Leave your kids with the grandparents so you can have a few moments to yourself? Visit your college best friend and snuggle her newborn?

You might be struggling to get started on packing because it’s hard to imagine how vacation is going to feel better than your current life. Inertia is real, especially for people with ADHD. Taking a moment to visualize a realistic but luxurious moment might give you some ideas (and motivation) for a few items you’ll “want” to pack, not just “need” to pack.

tl;dr Visualize yourself at your destination experiencing a moment of self-care (feeling like yourself). What are you doing? Now pack, or write down, what you need in order to have that moment.

#6. The Instant Delayed Gratification strategy.

This last strategy is a short and sweet. Hop online and order something to your final destination, like a book you’ve been looking forward to reading, some treats from Target (for me, it’s GF snacks), or some gadget or accessory you’ve had on your wishlist for a while, that might be useful during your vacation. Bonus points if your destination has lower sales tax than your hometown.

Yup, I’m giving you permission to treat yourself before you’ve done any packing. Aren’t I so nice? And also: now you have to go on this trip. You’re welcome.

tl;dr Use the wonders of the internet and send something practical or splurgy to your final destination. It’ll give you momentum and motivate you to get this shit done.

Welp, I hope you found something helpful in this list, or at least were entertained while procrastinating on your packing. I don’t think I’ll ever get to the point where I enjoy the packing more than the vacation, but by following my own tips, I’ve been finding packing just a teensy bit less miserable.

P.S. I am currently working on this article from my in-law’s house, 3000 miles away from home, wearing clothes that are not the same as the ones I wore on the airplane. I think this makes me an expert on the topic.