Dregs
The worst part about moving -- or at least my least favorite part -- is this last bit. All of the big stuff has been moved, all of the easily-boxed things are long gone, and I'm left with the dregs of the last two and a half years.
I'm at the "toss it or pack it randomly" phase, and it's slow going. I try to go room-to-room but lack the attention span; I try to sort things into boxes according to whether I'll want it when I get home or not but I only end up with two half-filled boxes. And holy buckets, when did I get all this clothing?
On the other hand, I've rediscovered all sorts of things I thought were lost forever -- random left shoes, a handful of books I'd misplaced, a couple of DVDs. And I'm continually reminded of just how messy I am.
Eesh.
Oh well. Just a couple more solid hours and I'll be able to scrub the place down. Now, if only I could find some focus...
I'm at the "toss it or pack it randomly" phase, and it's slow going. I try to go room-to-room but lack the attention span; I try to sort things into boxes according to whether I'll want it when I get home or not but I only end up with two half-filled boxes. And holy buckets, when did I get all this clothing?
On the other hand, I've rediscovered all sorts of things I thought were lost forever -- random left shoes, a handful of books I'd misplaced, a couple of DVDs. And I'm continually reminded of just how messy I am.
Eesh.
Oh well. Just a couple more solid hours and I'll be able to scrub the place down. Now, if only I could find some focus...
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