I’ve crossed about five things off my list of things to do this morning alone and I keep adding more. I know I should feel like I’ve accomplished a lot, but all I can see is a horrible mess everywhere.
I mean, okay, the frigging books are probably a full third of our possessions, and we have gotten rid of I don’t know how many bags of clothes, DVDs and CDs, I’ve thrown tons of Random Paperwork Crap away (and have SO MUCH MORE to deal with), we have to Do Something About The Toy Box, we…I don’t know. Oh, god, I’ve got to email the letting agent and tell her what we *don’t* want in the house, I forgot to do that…
I have to call movers and get quotes. I have to find a school for Young Indiana. I have to…I don’t know. Sleep more. Write more.
Maybe it will all seem like less when it’s being *unpacked*. Maybe I’ll have finally cleared out enough shit that it won’t feel like we’re just hauling useless crap from one location to another. Maybe we’re going to need more bookshelves. (There’s no maybe about that, really. #sigh)
I need to order a couple-three-five more DVD binders, too.
*stares glumly at the world*