Why is it that on the days I feel the worst, I have sushi for lunch and Mexican for dinner? It's like some sort of nascent gastronomical death wish.

So both Suzy and I have decided to limit our Playa del Fuego packing to a single 63 liter plastic flight box each for inedible and non-structure objects. That includes clothes and toys. I'm being good -- only four radios in mine so far. The plan is to be able to pack up in about 15 minutes and haul ass out of there if need be.

Got everything out in the living room, tent, hammock, umbrella, and half filled flight box. Clothes are in the wash and it's time for me to shower, shift them over to the dryer and sleep. The next few days are gonna be totally insane.

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