While I pride myself on being very efficient at packing, I utterly fail at unpacking. Generally, my mantra is "Obviously it has to get way worse before it gets better so stop asking about it, Mom."
Moving out of the apartment last weekend was a fair bit of work, but the mess on our kitchen table on Saturday night was nothing compared to the mess spilling out of my room into the common area right now.
It's just that packing feels full of infinite possibilities. Unpacking is tied a lot more closely to reality and space constraints. Packing is the promise of adventure, and unpacking is coming home from all of it. Packing has always felt like dreaming to me and unpacking like waking up.
And obviously, I'll choose adventure over reality any day. But until I can, I need to find a place to put all my winter coats for the next few months.
No comments:
Post a Comment