For a few months now, I’ve been putting links in the sidebar to things that strike my fancy. Starting this week, though, I’m trying something new. I’ve removed the sidebar links, and I’m going to hoard them all until Fridays. When I’ll put them right here as a post.
Like this:
It’s one of those dreams that start in a sparsely attended, gaudy old movie theater. And then suddenly there’s a snake the size of a freight train, and everyone scatters, and it’s chasing you out toward the swimming pool. Then the swimming pool’s gone and you’re running down a gravel road and you look behind you. And it’s still there, only it’s not slithering so much as doing this horrible leaping thing like a rope being whipped about.
Then you’re in a tunnel. You’re in a tunnel, and you think you’ve lost the giant snake. And you’re relieved, momentarily. Until Zombie Shakespeare and his team of Zombie Actors stumble out of the dark, spouting iambic pentameter and coming right for you. You turn to run, and there at the other end of the tunnel? The giant snake. Loping again. Of course.
Then, blissfully, you wake up. You tell your husband, “I had a terrible dream about a giant snake and Zombie Shakespeare.” And he looks at you like you’re off your rocker.
And you wonder if maybe he’s on to something, there.
We’ve moved five times since 2005. I think the most recent move has been the most stressful for me, even though it was an in-town move that we’ve known about for months. I was less prepared than I should have been when moving day arrived, and my dad brought down most of the things that we’ve had in storage at his house. Which means that we have far more to unpack than we packed.
The alarming number of boxes left to unpack has me feeling a little overwhelmed at the moment, so I’m taking a break to share with you a few things that I wish I had done this time.
Channel your inner Bob Wiley.
The last time we moved, I was a little obsessive in the labeling of boxes. I wrote the room and the box’s contents on an index card and taped the card to the top of the box. It made packing a little bit slower, but it made unpacking a breeze. We didn’t do that this time, and the unpacking has been chaotic.
Make a “Clean Sweep.”
Have you seen that show? A group of organization experts go into a house and show its occupants how to clean it up. The houses are usually just filled to the brim with stuff. The first thing the experts do it take everything out of the house and put it into three piles: sell, trash and keep. I don’t think we qualify for the “Clean Sweep” experience, but we do have a lot of stuff we don’t need. And we moved a lot of stuff that we shouldn’t have. As I’m unpacking, I’ve set up a “Donate” box. Next time, I’ll try to remember to do it as we’re packing.
Be forward-thinking.
In the past, I’ve kept a few meals in the freezer, ready to be heated up or prepared when I needed them. Having five or six meals ready to pop into the CrockPot would’ve been a big help this week.
Stay out of the closet.
Shoving boxes into closets might give you a little more floorspace, but it’s going to mean trouble once you start unpacking. If the closets are already full, where will the stuff go? At least, I’d imagine that would make things more difficult. I certainly wouldn’t know from experience.
And stay off the porch.
That uncovered porch looks like a good place to put a few things in the short-term, doesn’t it? And seeing as we’re in these extreme drought conditions, we sure won’t get two-straight days of rain. Right? Wrong. Things will be more crowded if you resist the urge to use that outdoor space, but at least you won’t have to haul sopping-wet furniture into an already-packed room later.
Now then. Back to the boxes.