Packing sucks. And it’s making me feel guilty. I hate feeling guilty. It appears by my rough estimations via google maps that there are clothes that have journeyed 3642 miles, and that I have never worn. I have lugged them, stuffing our car to the brink of collapse, and never put them on. So now I get to drive them another 1300 miles to store them.
The clothes get me to my biggest tirade: clothes hangers. We couldn’t take them all with us the first two times, and being a no wire hangers kind of girl, I am now in possession of an obnoxious amount of hangers. That I paid for. I’m not sure how they’re going to get anywhere, but no clothes hanger will be left behind! 😉
There are also now two sets of a lot of things in my possession, and three sets of some other things. We purchased more dishes when our needs weren’t met here. We purchased Christmas decorations when we were depressed to not have ours with us. There’s some leftover wrapping paper, spices I can’t bear to part with, and the gifts from various birthdays and holidays that we’ve accumulated (don’t think I don’t like gifts, that’s not a complaint!).
I’ve done fairly well without all the other stuff that we left the first time we moved – our furniture, family photos, scrapbooks, paintings. It was hard initially but I learned that whole “it’s just stuff” lesson. I’m trying to remind myself of that lesson now, but it doesn’t make the task at hand that much easier! We’re having to leave much earlier than we expected and it’s not going to be fun. I wish my Grandma, tight-roll packer extraordinaire were here- she could do it all in a day.