Time's Tickin' Away

If John Hendricks were here, he'd say, "Oh God, Sheribomb, it's your last Sunday in California." And he's right. It's coming down to the wire here.

After an amazing 4 days in Boston and 1 day on my couch with a chest cough and a codeine induced lethargy, the stress finally hit me this morning. At 5:30 am.

The movers are coming either Wednesday or Thursday, and although I am saving the kitchen for them to pack, I have decided to do the rest myself in an effort to conserve some Benjamins. So before the sun even came up, I was being productive and getting a plan of action in place.

What I always forget about moving is what a pain in the ass it is to move the "little stuff." It's not hard to pack books, or CDs, or clothes even. What I abhor packing, however, are the odds-and-ends one acquires through life that can't easily be separated into its own box with its own simple title. Knick knacks, candle holders, and various seasonal items are the worst. So are the endless supplies of fancy gift boxes and bags that I have been given that are just too cute not to pass on in the future. And while I've been well above board in my Goodwill donations, there is also a large amount of "stuff" that didn't make the final cut and have ended up in my dumpster.

I would like to say that I'm "almost done," but because I've done this whole moving thing a number of times, I know that the final items are the most tedious to pack. So conservatively I'll say I'm halfway done.

Tomorrow will, hopefully, prove to be just as successful today. In addition to packing, I need to get an oil change and car wash, go to the Vet, and head up to school one last time to pick up a few forgotten items from my classroom as well as return this laptop upon which I am currently writing.

It's the home-stretch people, and I'm really ready just to be done with this whole nonsense already.

Happy Father's Day!