Well, it is safe to say that a miracle has occurred. Our apartment is almost completely packed. It is only Wednesday today. All I have left is some random stuff, clothes from the closet, and the kitchen stuff I left out because I may need some of it to live. You never know... I am sitting here in our apartment staring at a monstrous pile of boxes and I'm not sure what to feel.
In some ways, this move feels like a normal part of life. After living in 7 apartments during the last 3 1/2 years, moving to the 8th really isn't that different. I am used to packing, unpacking, cleaning, sorting, organizing. I have done it way too much. In other ways, this move is really icky. I am leaving people I love, to move in with people I do not know, without my husband, for 11 weeks. Ick.
Discoveries for the week:
-Church people apparently are good at packing
-My husband is so strong that it is hard for others to take down things he put up (he's also a hot guy - lucky me!)
-I have acquired more stuff this year than I thought - and I don't even know where most of it came from
-Young children get very confused when they are in a house filled with boxes - they don't know what is going on and freak out a bit (understandably, since I am freaking out a bit)
-My husband likes kitchen appliances...
-My mother is a very helpful person
-Sometimes, you just need a hug
-I feel a bit like I am abandoning people. I'm not sure how to get away from that.
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