impossible that there isn't something

I'm going south again, down to Seattle, for another brilliant weekend with Robin, Ivo, Adam, MJ, and the polite gang of miscreants they run with, but this time with some special guests. I won't be the only person from out of town - animator Sean C. Adams, a dear friend of mine from Atlanta I've never had the good fortune to meet in person, will also be in Seattle. I'm thrilled! (Well, except for that dubious, nay-saying bit of my brain which won't stop claiming that somehow we will be unable to find each other, something will go wrong, the bus will break down or the house will catch fire or.. You know how it is. Tremendously good news in all directions? Must be a catch. Really I'll get there and I'll catch fire, scarred horribly in a freak accident as a piano falls on me from thirteen stories up.) Already I'm annoyed with myself for not being in bed, asleep, so as to get to tomorrow just that much faster. The nagging question, however, as I'm packing at two in the morning, what obvious, essential thing am I forgetting?