Every so often, someone on Facebook will ask one of those “If you could go back in time, what would you change?”
Today’s choice would be one I’ve said here and there in the course of my adulthood – I would go back in time and pack up correctly.
I’ve done a few moves in my adulthood. Two were about moving to a completely new state. One was overseas. I think I’ve met the “Big Move Challenge”.
When we moved here to Ireland, the company paid for movers. Part of me wasn’t sure about this. I mean, I like to know how things are packed up. I prefer to bag my own groceries at the grocery store. But oh well, it was paid for, how bad could it have been?
Well, when you’re moving house, not taking everything with you, are dealing with four kids and a blizzard…well…it can get bad. Not “I need therapy for this” bad…but bad enough that fourteen months later, I’m still dealing with the fallout from it.
Yes, it was that time of year where I decide that THIS time, I would conquer the storage room here. I did it a little before Christmas, but then eventually lost all hope to live, so packed away all the bins and boxes again. You can only stare into a box that should be labeled “Random Crap” and realize you have 591 decisions for each and every item in that box before you want to cry.
Eventually though, I get lured back in, by the idea that maybe, just maybe, if we got rid of some of what’s in there and organized what’s left properly, I’d have more room for storage. Which is an alluring thought.
So today, once again, I found myself sorting through the bins and boxes. And came to the startling conclusion that the box of random crap? Really is random crap. There’s a bit that I will keep. A few things to donate. The rest? Well, the rest is just trash. Some of it is – once again – stuff I specifically asked the movers NOT to pack. Which really just ticks me off. Because here, they weigh your garbage bin before dumping it into the truck, and you pay by the pound basically.
So I get to pay to dispose of random crap that I never wanted moved here in the first place.
And I must do this in stealth mode, because you know some dang child will see something and INSIST they must keep this Most Precious Object that’s been sitting in a box for fourteen months.
I’ve already put two trash bags full of random crap in the garbage bin. Then realized that I can’t keep doing that or we won’t have the room for our everyday garbage. I have one moving box already full of said random crap to be thrown away as well.
I can feel my will to live being sucked out of me as I type this out. However, I must finish the job. Otherwise, I will have no place to shove all the stuff I’ve pulled out all over the house thinking “Oh, this could go in the storage room!”
Really, I am my own worst enemy. But it’s easier to blame the movers who packed us up. Meanwhile, my goal is to leave Ireland someday with less stuff than we brought. At this rate, I can make that happen. But I will be paying for it with my next garbage bill!