My Own Private Thursday Whining Session: Packing Edition
Anti-whine: I have packed 15 boxes full of Mermaid Girl's stuff (not counting books), which, along with everything else, makes a grand total so far of 53 boxes.
Whine: MG has much, much, more than 15 boxes worth of stuff. And because she was so anxious about me packing it all up while she was in Vancouver this week, I made the foolish promise that I would not throw any of it away. I am a chump.
Anti-whine: I have brought things somewhat under control by sweeping everything on the floor (and in cracks and corners of bins and shelves and etc.) into a big garbage bag and labeling it "RandomCrap Stuff Found on MG's Floor that She Insisted Not Be Thrown Out."
Whine: There is still all of my office to do. And the kitchen. And bathroom. And most of the living room. And MG's desk, of which I shudder to think.
Anti-whine: I have composed a song to keep myself going, as follows:
Box by Box
[To the tone of "Step by Step, The Longest March"]
Box by box, the messiest house
Can be packed, can be packed.
All those boxes in a truck
Will be stacked, will be stacked.
When we move with them in tow
We'll be happy, even though
We are not like H. Thoreau.
That's a fact. That's a fact.
Whine: MG has much, much, more than 15 boxes worth of stuff. And because she was so anxious about me packing it all up while she was in Vancouver this week, I made the foolish promise that I would not throw any of it away. I am a chump.
Anti-whine: I have brought things somewhat under control by sweeping everything on the floor (and in cracks and corners of bins and shelves and etc.) into a big garbage bag and labeling it "Random
Whine: There is still all of my office to do. And the kitchen. And bathroom. And most of the living room. And MG's desk, of which I shudder to think.
Anti-whine: I have composed a song to keep myself going, as follows:
Box by Box
[To the tone of "Step by Step, The Longest March"]
Box by box, the messiest house
Can be packed, can be packed.
All those boxes in a truck
Will be stacked, will be stacked.
When we move with them in tow
We'll be happy, even though
We are not like H. Thoreau.
That's a fact. That's a fact.
posted by elswhere | 3:52 PM
5 Comments:
Would she notice if you threw things out?
We were cleaning up our bedroom last night and I found a little tiny purse CG had gotten at a birthday party a year ago. "Just pitch it," Politica advised. I opened it up first, though, and found the missing key to our china cabinet. We've been using imaginary shabbat candles for months now b/c we couldn't open the place where the candles are.
So there are virtues to not pitching, I guess. But that is an impressive number of boxes. Clearly time for a garage sale :)
She probably wouldn't notice if I threw about 50% of the stuff out. The problem is that I don't know *which* 50%. We're always sneaking things out of her room that she hasn't touched for months, only to be totally busted when she asks apropos of nothing, "Do you know where my little blue bear [or whatever] is? The one I got for my birthday last year?"
Generally the answer to that is a truthful "I have no idea where it is." Because if we gave it away to Goodwill six months ago, we honestly have no idea where it is now.
Ripley often catches me out, too. It's always the strangest stuff.
We have a policy, now: before birthdays or christmas or whatever, he has to give away a bag of toys. It helps keep it somewhat under control, and he gets to pick.
I feel your pain. Among LG's treasures that take up space in our not-so-spacious home? At least 15 boxes. That I am forbidden to throw out. Each of which are crammed with crap. Sigh.
We're never moving. Never ever ever.
I so feel your pain. I have decided that I'm never moving again. After moving from the USA back home to England I've had enough. It's been 7 years and I don't think I've got over it either LOL
Post a Comment
<< Home