Packing is one of the worst chores in the world to me.
Going through everything that has had its own place for the past three years and packing it up almost makes me sick.
Finding boxes, wrapping up breakables, and marking everything so that they don’t get lost during the move is a job all on its own. Not to mention the whole, “Did you pack up my clothes I wear to work?” and then having to dig them back out of the crates.
Then there is the whole process of trying to find a new place to rent. Getting back deposits, cutting the electric and water off, getting it turned back on in a new location. I seriously think I need a personal assistant to help me remember all the things that need to be done.
Between packing, working, and doing the other ten million things I do everyday, I think I’m losing it.
So far I’ve cleaned two rooms completely out (washed the walls and so forth) and taken loads of things to the Goodwill. If I haven’t seen it or used it within the past few years, it’s gone.
In some ways, I’m heartbroken that we have to leave, but in other ways, I’m thrilled.
I won’t know what to do when it rains. I’m so used to having to run and place buckets all over the house and make sure that nothing is going to ruin if it gets wet.
Then again, I had to give one of my dogs away and it breaks my heart. My father-in-law is going to keep my Great Pyrenees, Big Boy. They have a farm and he has room to run. My aunt helped me find Penny a new home last week and now all I have is Fancy.
We’ve had her for three years. She’s a part of the family and the only company I have when Timmy’s gone on hunting trips.
But, we do what we have to do. If we can’t keep her, we’ll find her a good home where I know she’s loved and taken good care of.
So, between working, packing and keeping up with my regular chores, I’ve barely had time to think. I have, however, remembered that this weekend is Mothers Day and my sister’s baby shower.
Now, if I can only figure out where I’ve parked my car and exactly how to get home, that will be something.
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