Packing is a Personal Problem

I had been thinking that beginning my foray into the blog-o-sphere more than a week before my departure may have been a bit premature, but it has proven to be an excellent base-line for my growing insanity. The realization that I leave in 3 days (technically a full 3, because my flight isn't until 9:30 pm on Wednesday) has only helped to quicken my heart palpitations, increase my caffeine intake and solidify the fact that I am, have been and always will be, a terrible packer.
The symptoms of incompetent-packer-itis first presented themselves about a week ago, when I took the initiative to start organizing the most important part of my wardrobe. In a bout of insomnia I had neatly laid out all 26 pairs of shoes that I believed were vital to my trip. Imagine my surprise when my mom walked in the next day and, rather than praising my early packing triumph, simply asked, "So, which of those are you actually bringing?" Apparently, "All of them" was not an appropriate response.
Since that day the disease has manifested itself in dresses, jeans, t-shirts, pajamas and even headbands. Now that I have all of 3 days to stop "organizing" and start physically moving items into bags, it has become clear to me that I need to stop arguing about what I MUST have and figure out what I actually need, items that I was just recently made aware, are not the same. I know that I am going to London, not Burundi, but it doesn't keep me from feeling like anything I leave behind will somehow become the one article of clothing that I will actually need (for example: of course I need a black sparkly sequined vest! What will I wear if we get invited to tea with Madonna?)
Needless to say, with the days dwindling and the luggage just as empty as ever, I can't help but hear the twinge of skepticism in people's voices when they assure me, "it'll all get done".