I hate packing. When it comes time to pack for a trip, I dread the hell out of it.
But packing up your ENTIRE HOME is pretty much hell on earth.
Seriously... how do we have this much stuff?
If I find another rogue Yankee Candle in a random place, I'm going to be in an institution wearing a lovely new jacket, just in time for spring in MN.
And picture frames. MY GOD WHERE DID THEY ALL COME FROM??!?!
I found some under the bed, in the closet, beside the couch.... and of course, there were a few on the walls (using what little wall space we have now).
I guess the move will give me a place to put those frames.
I'm exhausted. My husband is exhausted. He said last night that he had a dream about putting boxes together. Not packing the boxes... putting them together. So he was dreaming of that damn tape gun that has to be the most annoying noise on Earth.
Going through the clothing in the closets has been heaven and hell. Heaven in that we are getting rid of lots of clothing that doesn't fit (kids) or that we've gotten tired of (adults) and hell because I cannot count the number of trips I've taken to our local Goodwill. We have to be keeping that placed fully stocked.
We are essentially living with some furniture and a crap load of UHAUL boxes. Under Button's loft bed? Nothing but boxes. Peanut has at least 2 boxes under her bed and 3 more by the window. Sitting here on the couch, I feel like I'm going to be attacked ay any moment by boxes. And one entire wall in the den is nothing but boxes. I'm.So.Tired.Of.Boxes.
Moving day is May 15th. In less than 2 weeks, the movers will show up and shove all of this crap into the truck and we will say farewell to Minnesota. At least until we come back before Christmas to visit the grandparents.
Until then, I will keep packing.
I'm pretty sure that I'm about 2 days from this: