Pack it away, pack it away, pack it away, now!
The word came, last minute – everything was a go! A month of sleepless nights, anxiety and endless waiting, like a slow, crank by crank ride to the very top of a roller coaster, and now I’m in the final, adrenaline drop, a fast twisty, turny rush to the bottom, with only 11 days to close the loan.
And 11 days to finish packing. Officially that means “packing in every spare second mode”.
Working full time takes me away from home – 11 hours out of the day. That leaves 2 hours in the morning to get up (not an easy task), make lunches, get the kids off to school and get ready). I have 2.5, maybe 3 hours, in the evening to get home, pick up kids if necessary, sometimes get groceries, make dinner (rarely) help with homework, clean up the kitchen and pass out.
In between all this glamour, I’ve been packing (and sneaking in a breath or two).
I’m worried that I’m not going to get it all packed. I want everything in a box, ready to go so all the movers have to do is say, “step aside little lady, we’ll take it from here”.
You KNOW how it goes. Time gets away from you. The movers show up early. You still have random crap lying around helter skelter. The stuff that isn’t packed gets left behind, leaving you to make multiple trips, back and forth to clear out the old space. (Wasn’t as big as an issue when I drove a minivan…. but the compact hybrid makes this task foreboding).
Normally, I would say, the only thing worse than packing, is unpacking. Without xray vision you can’t see inside the boxes. So you have to cut the tape, open them up, pull some things out to look and see. This is where it starts to get messy.
Unpacking is also challenging because it means you have to make a decision about where things go. How do you make best use of a space when you haven’t lived in the space before? Especially when half the stuff is still in boxes? Yeah, those coffee mugs look great where you just put them, but oh, crap, here are the baking dishes. Where the F* am I going to put those now!?
Last night, as I packed a GINOURMOUS box full of shoes, I realized I was going to have to dramatically scale down in the kicks department. My friend Wilma was helping me. As soon as she spied the contents of the box , she gave me the come to Jesus look that said, “you are seriously going to have to scale down. SERIOUSLY”. I knew this but seeing that big box holding only shoes and not boots kinda drove it home.
I’m not afraid to purge. Anything that doesn’t fit is going to live in the garage until I have a massive garage sale. My garage sale rule is that anything that survives the garage sale is donated. It makes me feel like I’ve won. Since I’m also a professional garage saler, (oh yeah, I’ve got a wing man and even a backup wing man) a lot of what you find in my house has been gained highly discounted. Shedding something that you bought for a dollar is easier than selling something that you paid for at retail prices. The chili peppers wrote a song about it so it must be true (Look up “Give It Away”). But first, I really need to pack.