Lost in the Move

Doesn’t it feel great when you’re unpacking a box and you reach in to find the box is empty? That you unpacked it all? Yeah, I start humming, “Another One Bites the Dust.” Of course, there are about 5 bazillion more to go, but that’s okay because I am so in love with my new house! The storage and rooms are smaller. I’m finding that’s a good thing. I’m having to declutter. Be warned: I’ll probably go rogue for a few posts and tell you some neat little tricks I found for saving space. I might find it on Pinterest. (Did I really break down and join Pinterest after that rant about ridiculous Pinteresters? Yes, says the ridiculous Pinterester.)

Trashing all the things I didn’t have the courage to trash before is quickly becoming my favorite perk of this move. You know, like that book about how to decorate your entire house using nothing but household junk, such as gum wrappers, lens caps, and old toothpaste tubes. Okay, so I made that up. But I bet a book like that would sell! And someone would end up giving it to me for Christmas. Seriously, though, there are things people have given to me—which I do not intend to name because some of those people read this blog…or so they say—that I chucked during this move. I cannot tell you the freedom I felt when those things hit the wastebasket. It’s the whole “I’m never gonna do that! And as long as I have that [name of item concealed to protect me, the culprit], it will dangle in my brain as that completely useless project that I, maybe, should’ve done but never did!” I know this is totally me. No one else has niggling reminders all over the house that they never get around to.

The beauty of tossing these things is, if someone asks, “Hey, what happened to that electric ponytail holder stretcher I gave you?” I can say, “Um… I think that must’ve gotten lost in the move.” And it’s totally true! It was trying to make its way over and took a detour to the local dump instead. It’s in ponytail holder heaven now.

Well, I better get back to the boxes. They seem to multiply when I’m not looking.

P.S. Here’s the view of the backyard from my desk. Do you see houses? Me neither. I feel spoiled. The kids said they heard a rooster crow this morning. That could be interesting.