"Leaving on a jet plane..."

It's that time you know, when, in just a couple minutes, I will call Mom to tell her that I'm done packing, and then ask her what she thinks I forgot. This is the paranoia phase of my traveling regime. In it, I know, I know, that I've forgotten something very important, and that I will need it at a dangerously necessary time, and that I won't have it. Mom, of course, reminds me that there's nothing that I have here that we can't buy in California. I agree with the wisdom of this, but I'm still sure I forgot "it." Whatever it is, I still have at least an hour before I go to bed and a couple hours tomorrow morning before we leave for the airport.