When it comes to packing . . . . I think I get an F-. I've never been an organized mover. I would just throw things in bags, throw the bags on the truck, and ride off to the promise land!
I don't have the luxury of that in this situation. I have a deadline. no . . . . not a deadline. I have A DEADLINE. I'm throwing things away as if a gale force storm took down the house and drenched everything in 2 feet of warm rain water.
You would think I'd systematically move through each room, one at a time. Purging, setting aside, cleaning out.
Not me!!!
I run around the house like my ass is on fire and I don't remember what stop drop and roll means. Pulling out a drawer here . . . . blazing through some CD's there . . . . . moving some junk from this shelf to that shelf (great work there Goldilocks). I have ADD like you've never seen. And then I just stress myself out. And then I get stressed from being so damn stressed.
And then I just sit there in front of the TV with a Diet Mt. Dew and a bag full of Reeses Pieces. I crunch away and wonder "gee . . . I should probably be packing something."
I think I need a life coach.
Sunday, August 29, 2010
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Bi-Polar
I'm amazed at the gamut of emotions I've run in the process of moving to a new country. Especially considering I only just found out under a week ago. My apartment looks as if I haven't moved a single finger in the direction of "PACKING".
How does one pack a 2 floor apartment full of junk in under two weeks? How does one then move all of that junk to another holding pen with no moving truck? Just an extended cab Chevy Colorado and a lovely lady with a herniated disc who happens to be riddled with arthritis?
Not to mention the two cats that must be left behind in the empty apartment, getting visitors every day (or every other day) until arrangements can be made to ship them to Mexico. (A process that, on it's own, is inducing enough panic to bring me to tears. . . . I don't do tears.)
I know paradise is going to be an adventure!
I sure wasn't expecting it to start so soon . . .
How does one pack a 2 floor apartment full of junk in under two weeks? How does one then move all of that junk to another holding pen with no moving truck? Just an extended cab Chevy Colorado and a lovely lady with a herniated disc who happens to be riddled with arthritis?
Not to mention the two cats that must be left behind in the empty apartment, getting visitors every day (or every other day) until arrangements can be made to ship them to Mexico. (A process that, on it's own, is inducing enough panic to bring me to tears. . . . I don't do tears.)
I know paradise is going to be an adventure!
I sure wasn't expecting it to start so soon . . .
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