MInimalism Mishap: Lost Luggage

I’m home from Berlin and it’s been a bit of a trial getting here. Our flight got changed at midnight the night before we flew out and Matt had to argue our way onto a decent flight home. Then it was all pretty typical, except for one shocking feature on a Delta flight: free food. I haven’t seen a free meal on an airplane in years, and it felt absolutely ridiculous being handed the warm “towels” they’d come around with before the meal. In the end though, they lost our luggage and then once home, our car wouldn’t start. We do have Triple A, so the car’s getting worked out, but we had to borrow my mom’s car in order to buy groceries (after a month away we had nothing to eat in the house). But back to the luggage. I was pretty proud of myself for managing to fit a month’s worth of clothes, shoes, and toiletries into half a suitcase without causing it to be overweight. But I never really thought through what would happen if our luggage got lost. I had all my pills with me on the plane- that’s always a non-negotiable. But I didn’t even do that thing where people recommend you pack an extra pair of clean underwear in your carry-on. Probably because my “carry-on” was just a glorified grocery bag from Urban Outfitters, knotted at the top to keep my packing cube full of pills from falling out. I had one other packing cube of pajama/workout T-shirts in there and a fleece to try and corral everything together. But that was it- no extra underwear, no bullet journal, and no other clothes. Like, at all. I didn’t really have any clothes to come home to either, since I have a small capsule wardrobe and most of it was in the missing suitcase. I guess this is why most minimalists just bring a carry-on. Lesson learned. But you can’t fly in Europe with one of those typical American-sized carry-ons, plus the weight limits are strict. I don’t own one of those tiny roller bags like flight attendants carry, so the carry-on thing just wasn’t going to fly (get it?).

My husband and I thought one checked bag for the two of us would be economical since you pay $50 per checked bag, plus it would leave us less carry-on luggage to trapse around the airport with. This seemed like a fine plan until I was trying to find pajamas to wear to bed last night. I settled on a tank top (thankfully left at home) and a pair of shorts designated for painting projects. I had no clean underwear, so after my shower I went commando in my shorts (sorry for the TMI). When I got up this morning (bright and early of course, jet lagging) I lolled about for a while before we eventually decided to hit the cafe. Once again, I was at a loss for what to wear. I picked out one of the pajama T-shirts, an underwire bra I’d left at home, and an old pair of paint-spattered jeggings (also from the painting capsule). I donned my summer slip-on Supergas, along with some socks that specifically go with those shoes. And I have my computer, my notebook, my one pen, my wallet, etc. which came on the plane with me in my backpack. But no underwear. Right. So I pulled down my storage bin of smaller clothes. The last time I looked through them, I’d put some underwear that “might fit soon” away and noted where they were. So today, out it came, and by god, they fit. Tiny people in my chest started jumping up and down, or so it seemed. I played it cool. This does not change my worth as a person. I am the same. I’m just wearing different underwear. The tiny people simmered down. I got dressed and decided to start a load of laundry: I threw in my plane outfit, and then I rewashed all the pajama/workout T-shirts, not really trusting our Berlin Eco-washer to get them truly clean. At this point it dawned on me that I would have to get on the treadmill today. Our flight change yesterday eliminated our opportunity to work out, so today we’re back on again. I pulled out some too-small sports bras and a pair of leggings from storage. I set aside one of the workout tees and a pair of thick crew socks that would have to do. And then I realized I had no shoes. This means that today will either be a walking day in my Supergas or my boots, or I will be hitting up the painting wardrobe once again. I have an old pair of running shoes that could “step in.” I’m feeling pretty smug about owning my painting clothes at this point. Oop, we just received a text that said our ”luggage has been located,” though in what country, they didn’t say. I doubt it’ll be returned today, but maybe tomorrow. In the meantime, it’s painting clothes and underwire bras for now. Welcome home to me.