In which AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
Cycling rapidly between “This pile of boxes will absolutely fit in the U-Box container, no problem,” and “This pile of boxes WILL NEVER FIT IN THE CONTAINER, AND I SHOULD FREAK OUT, BECAUSE THAT WILL TOTALLY HELP!!!” and isn’t it cool how moving just never gets less stressful, no matter how you do it?
The kitchen cupboards and drawers are empty. The fridge is very nearly empty; I kept the cheeses, and a bag of walnuts, and stuff I was intending to eat for breakfast until I just now, while typing this, realized there’s no way to cook it since all the pans are packed.
(I threw away so much food today. Gawd. It feels terribly wasteful, even though I did try to make sure we ate as much of it as possible. We only decided to move five or six weeks ago. No way to eat ALL the condiments and random dry goods. But goddamn, I have thrown away probably $200 worth of opened boxes, packets, and jars.)
Bathroom is emptier than a motel bathroom: there’s only the shower curtain, one towel, one washcloth, Qtips, matches, and the toiletry stuff we use daily, in travel bags.
Bedroom’s as done as it can get before container day, I think. We still have clothes in the closet, but that’s just a few minutes to pack.
We have more lamps than I guess I’d realized, somehow. Five? I’ll keep any we have room for, but none of them are particularly cool.
Basement storage has been gone through and is about a third of what it was before, mostly just Christmas stuff now. (My man is amazing. Last week I mentioned sorting the storage was on the list, and he just went and did it.)
I’m essentially packed for my two nights in Atlanta. Most of the stuff’s in the suitcase, at any rate, in an untidy pile, and I know where the other stuff is. Honestly, the timing is pretty crazy (who decides to go on a retreat for two of the last three nights before a cross country move?!?!), but on the other hand, I’ll be in a great mental state for a long drive.
I’ve apologized several times for fucking off right before we leave for Washington, but he seems utterly unruffled and fine about quite possibly having to steam clean the carpet on his own. I’ll try to get it done before I go, but we might be fucking with the remaining furniture or something. (Nobody’s bought the couch or coffee tables, and there are two shitty office chairs and a desk that we need to do something with.) He’s so mellow, it’s just completely wonderful.
Every time I make a huge pile of garbage and recycling, he just gets up and takes it out. I haven’t taken a single thing out to the dumpster because he just handles it.
Any rate, I have a burrito in the fridge I made yesterday when I wanted to wash the dish the refried beans were in so I could pack it. I think I’m gonna go nuke and eat it!
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