No, the kind people my wonderful husband is paying to pack up our stuff so it arrives safely...hahahaha, no, it's so I won't completely lose my mind! Which I'm well on my way to doing anyway.
I have to have everything I don't want packed by them in a "special" area in an hour. Then I have to disconnect myself from life support: the internet. I give my tech-addicted parents crap constantly about how they'd rather communicate through their computer than face to face. I've actually sat at a table with them, margarita glasses full, and watched them play with their iPhones and not talk to anyone! But now that I have to unplug the computer? Uh, hey Pot, how black IS that Kettle?
In the meantime, our Realtor, Dena, was all impressed with the moving binder I created. Like, how could I POSSIBLY move without a master binder sub-divided into sections pertaining to the various aspects of the move?!?!? Hello, have you met Karen? It was so funny. Wait till she sees the custom printed labels denoting the future location of every box I’ve packed, one at each short end of the box so you can see the label from almost any angle. She’ll really flip!
And yet, I feel so…DISORGANIZED!!! Mike’s all “we’re in good shape, no problem!” and I’m all “do you SEE how much shit is not properly sorted, organized and labeled?!?!?!” Guess what nightmares I’ll have tonight. It’s thirteen years into the future, I THOUGHT I had unpacked the last box from this move years ago (at which point I cried harder than I did the first time my FOUR year old shit in a potty instead of his pants), I move a shelf and there it is…a stack of boxes that were never unpacked! Cue the music from Psycho, the shower scene.
Well, in an attempt to prevent such a scene from actually occurring, I'm off to sort and organize as much stuff as I can before 8:30 am. Hopefully I'll be checking in soon, post move, from my new office in the loft area of the new house!
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