I hate unpacking. I think it’s the worst part of moving. Figuring out where everything should go, the boxes of random crap that have no home, and should just be thrown away. We are now mostly at the random crap phase. I thought we packed well, but the last few hours on moving day I could be seen running from room to room, boxing up the last of our things that were beneath beds and in cabinets.
But soon (hopefully sooner than a month like last time) we’ll be unpacked and settled and cardboard boxes will no longer be part of the decor.
It seems I have read about a book every other day the past couple of weeks. Apparently this is the distraction tactic I use instead of packing. It has been great reading so much but as we have two days left to pack, I realize that I should have been packing a bit more.
Luckily, most of my reading is done while E is napping, when I couldn’t really be packing anyway as it makes so much darn noise (he seems to wake up way too easily during the day).
But for now, it’s some serious packing…
Until moving that is. I still feel like there is plenty of packing that needs to be done but I lack complete motivation. Being pregnant for this move means less lifting by me, but it seems I have done most of the packing…being at home during the day and all.
Packing with an 18 month old is quite a challenge, but E is so incredibly helpful. We’re just at the point of wondering if we’ll need more boxes…need more time to get our lives in order.
I am so eager to move and get the hell out of this apartment. We cannot move soon enough. But as A pointed out, we always say the next apartment can’t get worse, but it does. We have every single limb on each of our bodies crossed in hopes that this new place will be quite an improvement.
