So. tired. of. boxes. and. stuff.
You know the phrase you wouldn’t wish something on your own worst enemy? I have come to the conclusion that if f I ever develop a worst enemy upon which I’d need to inflict something, this is it. Unpacking and setting up a house.
Don’t get me wrong. I love the house. I really like Portland. I really DON’T like navigating through my life bit by bit by bit and figuring out where I want those bits to live now.
Most of my free time is now consumed with unpacking box after box after box after…BOX. And organizing stuff. And cleaning stuff that’s coming out of the boxes (more on that later.) My not-so-free time (i.e. momming and wife-ing is consumed with me thinking about what I am going to unpack and organize next. Or in a store buying supplies to organize. Work is actually a welcome break from worrying about unpacking. My office is full of boxes, but I am so busy these days, it doesn’t bother me.)
Here’s the kicker of this whole thing. Mentally, I am done moving. Over it! Next! See, in my head, everything (of importance) has been assigned a place. Physically? Yup. Still in boxes. So, the way my brain works…I have thought through the process of unpacking – so I’m done with it. I don’t need to do the actual unpacking. Except the pesky stacks of boxes are killin’ me, Smalls!
Silver lining here? That I didn’t have to pack those boxes to actually get them here. I think that I’d be one miserable witch if I had to pack it all up just to unpack it all again. 🙂
Be honest. You’d whine, too, if your house looked like this after Christmas travels, right?!
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