Been trying to pack up little by little for the past few days in preparation for my move on the 10th. It's slow going, and I'm absolutely ridden with anxiety concerning packing my clothes. Nevertheless, I'm trying to stay focused! I hate packing for trips and I really hate packing up my whole life to move. I doubt there's many people that would say that they enjoy it. But it's a necessary evil in the progression of life. Other than being annoying and bogus, packing is a nostalgic time. I've been seeing stuff I haven't seen in a long, long while. Packing is also like a cracker jack box. There seems to be surprises at the bottom of boxes that you forgot existed!
Yeah, I know, I have too much stuff. But I'm an American and it's my inalienable right to have far too many material objects that I am vastly over attached to! And I will do it, dammit! You can't stop me! Unless you burn down my house. Please don't burn down my house. :(
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