Headed out, after confronting my usual packing problem. I have an obsessive fear of being caught short on reading material on trips. I don’t know what this phobia is called–am I a bibliodeficencyphobic or something like that?–but it’s a major crimp in my travel. Sure, I tell myself, this thick novel should be enough to last me a week. But what if it doesn’t engage my interest? What if I have more time on my hands than I thought and get through it relatively quickly? Better take something else. But what if that other book proves very skimmable and it lasts less than a day? Better take something else. But what? What if I take the wrong thing, and feel the urge to read something else instead? And on it goes until I’ve stuffed my bag with so many books–the vast majority of which will go untouched–that I’ve got to worry about how to fit all my clothes.