Friday, August 3, 2007


I'm sitting here having my coffee and eying the roomfull of stuff that I still have to sort through, designate for storage or the move, and pack.

I've come to a conclusion, even with the small amount of packing that I did last night...


Twenty two years of life condensed into one bedroom. Bound to be a lot of stuff, right?

I've got things in there that are sentimental... I don't want to get rid of them, but I don't necessarily feel that they need to go to college with me... storage.

I've got things in there that I don't even particularly LIKE... but they were gifts. Storage.

I've got clothes I haven't worn in YEARS hanging in the closet, that I can't seem to part with, again with the sentimental value. Now, mind, these are not t-shirts and jeans that I've hung on to for years (no, those get worn until the holes are no longer "strategically placed") its stuff like my cheerleading uniforms from Junior High, the dress I wore to my brother's wedding, the one I wore to prom and as bridesmaid at my best friend's wedding, things like that.

(No, there will be no pictures posted in the cheerleading uniforms or the dresses. Forget it. The era of the skirt in my life ended in Junior High.)

I've got things that I can't live without in there, things that make life pleasant, and things that I'm gladly throwing away.

But still, I've got too much crap.

I haven't even started on the stuff in storage yet, and I've got dishes to pack up (very carefully! I love my dishes) a couch, coffee table, and end tables to dig out...

It'll be easier to do that stuff later today, though. Farmmom and Farmdad are going to get the trailer that Grandpa gave us, courtesy of my uncle who decided he didn't want it after leaving it sitting at Grandpa's for umpteen years while he was in Europe.

Basically a box trailer... very good for loading things you don't intend to move immediately when your local climate is standing on its head and saying "semi-arid? HA! Have some rain!"

We like the rain, yes we do, but its not good for couches.

And now back to those danged cardboard boxes and packing tape. I'm labeling everything properly right now, but I have no doubt that by the time the move rolls around I'll have several boxes with "CRAP" scrawled illegibly across them.


Sean said...

So, no pictures in skirts, but what about pictures in general?

farmgirl said...

Maybe someday, if you're all very good, and bribe me very well.

Matt G said...

My move just ended with me throwing boxes into the truck labeled "MISC CRAP-- LR" and "MISC CRAP-- BATH."

You kinda hate yourself when you move crap that you know is crap, and which may be one man's crap, but is another man's shyte, but which you have to get out of there, and can't sort out just then because you don't have the time. Three weeks since my move, and I'm still recovering from Post-Move Depression.

Don't be caught with PMD by surprise-- it is not a reflection of the place or circumstance you've moved to; it's a reflection of the fact that moving sucks.