I'm surrounded by boxes.
Most full, some only half so, waiting the final fill and to be thrown into a moving truck. I figured out it was cheaper to rent a van/truck (whatever the hell they call it) instead of using our cars and my mom's truck plus the gas money for multiple trips. I'd rather move it all at once, start unpacking and begin the process of
living.
It's bad enough I'll have to clean up (No, he's not a slob; just never really used his house to its full potential over the last year, so it's dusty as sin) before I officially move in. So only the essentials will be in the house while everything else sits in the garage. But I've been in such a state of flux in the last year, I'm lucky I don't set a lit match to everything or have an estate sale and just start over.
I hate moving, only because of the stress of where to put all the boxes while I'm trying to pack and living in the space at the same time. The clutter is killing me. I've turned to meditation and deep breathing to keep from killing others around me. Thank god for cleaning out excesses. I have some pageant dresses, a TV and various and sundry to sell if anyone wants them. PLEASE?
No one has asked to help and I haven't sought any help.
Frankly, I'm leery of something being broken again. Seems every move I've had, something gets broken needlessly: some old candle holders. The crystal chalices from my first wedding. My china hutch. I've packed and padded the breakables as much as possible though the antique furniture has me the most worried. There's a tight fit to the narrow staircase in my apartment.
*
I* may need the padding (a padded cell) when this is all over.
