(2/11) The departure day crept up fast. I’d pushed the whole thing so far out of my head that when it finally showed up, I realized I hadn’t prepped at all for what was actually about to happen. A few weeks earlier, I hit up @marrio_restores with an idea idea: “Can you repaint a couple of random shoes in an OG Jordan colorway?” He didn’t hesitate — just got to work. But it was tight timing and I didn’t think they’d be ready in time. Meanwhile, my own planning was a mess. The day before the flight, I realized I hated my travel bag. So I drove to @rei and did what any rational person would do - I bought the most expensive one I saw. Still not sure it was the right one, but it made me feel like I was doing something productive. I also forgot to tell my parents I was leaving. They were surprised. I was too. I packed and repacked five times. Just my clothes. I landed on solid colors and understated pieces: boring, but safe. I thought I was going to build a theme around Air Safari 87s and pack three or four pairs, but that quickly fell apart. I couldn’t decide anything…I ended up with nothing but confusion. My eventual plan was to pick the final rotation as I was literally walking out the door. Then, well past my bedtime, Marrio showed up at my doorstep with the customs. They were perfect — a “what if” concept I had dreamed up: what if these Air Maxes had dropped in a Jordan colorway? One pair made the cut immediately. A few minutes later, I crashed — or at least I thought I did. I set my alarm. But it didn’t go off. My wife shook me awake just a few hours later. I scrambled, grabbed my Free Runs as beaters, some Safari 87s, my Patta AM1s, and the Jacquemus x AM1 x Marrio Breds. No clarity. No theme. No more time. Ready or not — I had a plane to catch.