Friday, July 11, 2014


"All she blogs about is moving."
That is an accurate statement. I plan to go back to my original blogging schedule, er wait I never had a blogging schedule, in the Fall. If you don't care about moving, boxes, or complaining, you are welcome to take a break from Camp Bores, until further notice.

The kitchen took two evenings to pack. I have been getting bursts of energy between the hours of 7:30-9:30PM. The packing paper moves effortlessly at those hours and by the end I fall into bed giggling with delirium. How can two people have this much stuff

Mr. B was on a work trip during those two nights and when he arrived home on Thursday at approximately 1:30AM, he woke me up to ask, "How do I get a drink of water? We don't have any cups?" I sleepily replied, "Get a bottle of water. The cups are packed!"

I certainly didn't want to be packing the fragile glass items during the middle of the move, so they needed to be packed ahead of time. Plus, drinking from the spigot is totally normal when you're 28 years old. Who needs cups?

I told my neighbors the other day that I was eating all of the non-perishables in my cabinets so I had less stuff to pack. They didn't think I was serious. I was. My diet this week has consisted of tuna, beets and sausage gravy. All out of a can.  Even our cabinets are full of stuff.

The pile of stuff I have to take to my in-laws just keeps growing in the guest bedroom. To the real Mr. and Mrs. B, I apologize in advance for the amount of stuff we will be hauling in the front door of your house. I am glad you plan to hide us in the basement.

And the cleaning supplies, well I won't let Mr. B pack them because I am already looking forward to bleaching this house before we go. I want the new owners to walk into a fresh clean house. Not a musty one, like it feels now. Why do boxes and furniture stacks have that effect? Everything feels cramped and dusty.

One of my favorite bloggers is going through a similar season right now. Only she has 5 children and one more on the way. Can you imagine? I almost feel guilty for complaining about this move. Her latest moving post says it best. My favorite line, "the beginning of moves.  there's such rhyme and reason, a place for everything.  and then, at the end, it's so crazy and willy-nilly that things just begin being thrown into boxes that make no sense and that you may very well never unearth again."

I couldn't have said it better. We were so organized at the start of packing. So much so, that Scott had me create a spreadsheet to log each of the boxes, the number associated with it, and all of the stuff inside each box. We've totally given up on the spreadsheet and rather than having boxes assigned to each room, we now have a keurig packed with the living room lamp shade, the bedroom TV remote, our winter hats, the stapler from my office, antlers from the guest bedroom, and all that extra toilet paper sitting under the sink. The boxes aren't numbered anymore and they are full of crap stuff from various rooms.

I can't wait to unpack all this stuff.

You can follow our move on my Instagram account or #BoresMove. Had I thought of this last night, the hashtag would have been #BoresStuff. Oh well, #hashtagfail

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