The living room is emptied out except for the things in the center of it which are going to Salvation Army, and the pile of boxes and envelopes I’m shipping all over the world.
The bedroom is emptied out except one pair of shoes, a laundry basket full of hangers, and a bag of garbage.
The closets, excepting the coat closet downstairs, are empty.
Shaun’s bedroom has only enough for him to sleep on tonight, and will be empty in the morning.
The bathrooms are empty.
The kitchen is still bordering on disaster.
I am about to clean off my computer desk, and the boys will remove it shortly after that. Shaun’s desk will go away tomorrow, leaving the office empty except for Ted’s desk, which the man buying the house wants.
The garage is empty.
None of us seem to really be able to see further than one small task at a time, but we’re wash rinse repeating those small tasks at what seems, at this juncture, to be top speed.
Bird by bird, buddy. Just take it bird by bird.