There’s nothing in this world we resent more, but can completely relate to on an extremely shallow, yet intimate level. Yep, we’re talking about first world problems.
In light of finals and the inevitable chore of packing up everything you somehow managed to haul all the way here in the first place, you’re probably going to be hearing your fair share of first world problems being voiced this week and will most likely let a few slip yourself, and Valley wants to be there to say we told you so.
So, without further adieu, we bring you our comprehensive list of first world packing problems:
Trying to study for finals AND pack.
It’s mildly inconsiderate that our professors would think that the only things we have to worry about this week are their exams. As if the difference between a covalent and atomic bond really matters in the face of the decision to either roll all my T-shirts or fold them in order to save space – now that’s a worthy exam question.
Packing an essential that you didn’t realize you’d need later.
And of course my toothbrush is at the bottom of one of these five crates. And of course I didn’t pack any of them with any semblance of order. I feel like I need to turn this into a game show to refrain from just driving home right now without putting anything in the car.
Let’s see…What’s behind door number 1? Oh, not my toothbrush? I guess I’m not brushing my teeth today, then.
Fitting everything in the car.
Yes! The last box is officially in the car and all the doors successfully close without having to do that bungee-cord wrapping trick I saw on Pinterest last night! Who would have thought the space underneath the steering wheel where the pedals are would fit all my shoes?
Oh, now I know why nobody ever thought of it. Because it’s illegal. So, bungee-cords it is?
Your parents judging you for all the stuff you have.
Mom, I’m not even going to have this conversation with you. I needed those ten pool noodles.
And Dad? Yeah, I caught you sharing a look of defeat with that other girl’s dad in the elevator. Which was totally rude and unnecessary. I’m sure that guy’s daughter had way more stuff than me – I swear it didn’t look like that much before we packed it.
You judging yourself after realizing how much stuff you have.
Why do I have ten pool noodles again?
Unpacking.
What do you mean, unpacking? I plan on wearing the same T-shirt and shorts for the rest of the summer, sleeping on the only surface not covered in boxes (unfortunately, my bed has been overtaken by said boxes, so I guess that means I’m stealing the dog’s bed), and using my brother’s toothbrush because no, I still refuse to go through those crates in search of something I could so easily borrow from someone else.
Re-packing at the end of the summer.
So, it might have been smarter to leave all those boxes packed and live like survivor man for a few months, because this is literally worse than a slow, painful death in the wilderness.
I swear, next year things will be different.
