I have this horrible feeling that I packed one of my library books...
One of the downsides of packing and moving is that you get into this zone where you're going to pack this first and this next, and oh, this would fit so perfectly in that box and where is the thing, and on and on... And in the midst of it all, it's so easy to forget that the all of the ordinary tasks of life have to get done too - the laundry, the dishes, writing the dance programs, the grocery shopping. Tonight I managed to get home from Swarthmore by 10:30, make dinner for tomorrow and the next night (gotta get to GCD early tomorrow for a nominating committee meeting - that goes on too), fold yesterday's laundry, wash a bunch of dishes and make a bunch of others dirty. Was there any packing in that list. Nope. And it's after 12:30 and the only other thing I can manage is bed, maybe preceded by some stretching.
But then, I knew that Tuesday would be hopeless for packing. I'd just hoped I could fill a box or two before bed. Now I think sleep would be more useful. Tomorrow... Tomorrow after the dance I will find parking immediately and fill a bunch of boxes to load into the car on Thursday before class and take them up to the house Thursday after class. Then Mom will be here to give me the impetus to keep going. Tomorrow I will box up the last books and then attack the rubber stamps and craft items around my desk. I wonder if a lone person can handle the extra-sticky to itself plastic stuff that I intend to wind around the rubber stamp boxes to keep them shut in transit. Guess I'll find out.
Please send along some extra-strength packing virility with a chaser of arm and back strength
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