5 bras, 16 pairs of knickers and a box of Tampax

F**k. In just 24 hours I'll be on a flight to the South of France to hop aboard my new boat gig and I can already tell I'll be drowning my sorrows with one of those extortionately overpriced mini bottles of Bombay Sapphire, in seat 34B (that's also my bra size fyi), having forgotten to pack my Seaman's discharge book, visa, or worse, my famous Bridget Jones wrong time of the month granny pants, where no doubt another bottle of £9.99 Bombay will be ordered once the sadness of not been placed in seat 32C kicks in (hi and welcome to the itty bitty titty committee).

With the list of 'Sophs list of sh*t to do' growing quicker than the pile of Cadburys, McVitties and space brownies I plan to smuggle onboard (well I have to keep my wits end in line somehow whilst on charter?), it's no wonder that I leave everything to the last second whilst I happily sit here in the bath for an hour or two procrastinating about such list, to Miley Cyrus' top hit single Flowers.

First on the agenda today? 'List of sh*t to pack'. Such crumpled up piece of A4 paper with numerous squiggles, crossed lines and dinasaur doodles reads the following:

2x jumpers (incase your get cold in the 32 degree South Asian heat)

5x T-shirts (4 black, of course, and 1 oversized grunge one to make me look cool infront of the already cool crew)

1 cute little top that I've been using as a pyjama top for the past 2 months

1 pair of jeans

2x shorts (just remember to sew up the rather large and need I say noticeable, hole in the crotch area, but if not enough time, then oh well #easyaccess)

A dress (if you have one? If not, pinch one of your sisters)

3x bikinis that you still insist in squeezing your hobnob filled arse into incase you're treated to a beach day

5x bras (even though you know you'll only live and die in that one black with very little stretch left inside it for the entire season, because, well, comfort)

16x pairs of knickers (because you do have a tendency to crap yourself when the charter guests moan that your orange swirly swirl of decoration on the side of their Negroni wasn't swirly enough)

99 pairs of black trainer socks (see, you've already lost one pair and haven't even set foot in laundry)

1 electric toothbrush and 1 55p tesco value manual toothbrush (for when you've forgotten to charge the other for 3 months straight)

1 tube of Max White Colgate toothpaste (somehow gotta make those toothy pegs covered in deep layers of leftover guest Malbec pearly white again)

Hand cream (gotta plaster in those alcohol spray and bleach induced cracks on your knuckles somehow)

Half a years supply of Anti-aging cream, Ibuprofen, Nurofen, Berocca and Multivitamins to help make the process of you coming out of this looking at least half human a little more achievable

Shampoo and conditioner

Some make-up (any kind, you're gonna look like your grandmothers old leather handbag most of the time anyway)

3 boxes of Tampax

2 bottles of the dogs Rescue Remedy to help with the nerves

...sadly, the last of the list was trampled on by my two Jack Russell's wet paw prints, but I think it reads 'An e-vape or two'. I know I don't smoke, but I think I'll thank myself later on down the line.

Right, my baths getting cold, my fingers and toes have all turned wrinkly and I've got a 2 inch diameter hole to start sewing up on my favourite pair of shorts.

#letsgetnakedindeed