Life in Box Land

So for the first two weeks of our new life in MD we had almost no furniture. We had our bed, Connor's bed, some clothes, my plants and our animals. Sparse living makes you humble. It was easy to clean, easy to care for.

Yesterday the movers arrived with 5 crates of boxes and furniture. Now granted, we had NO TIME to prepare for the move due to Connor's surgery, Connor's two birthday parties and Jason;s graduation weekend events. So the movers packed all of the SHIT we would have normally sifted through. Empty Taco Bell sauce packet, yep. Old Foster's beer cap from years ago, check. Used toilet paper...well just about. There is so much that we need to throw away! So much we need to give away! So much to sort through! There are just skyscraper sized stacks of boxes everywhere I turn and it is overwhelming. Just so much shit. Not even to be funny, most of it is stuff we don't want. It's shit.

Calgon take me away! My huge totally lazy inner child wants to hide from this monumentous task of caring for Connor and sorting through all of this. My teeny little grown-up side acknowledges that I have to do it. Anthony Robbins says that you respond to pain. Is it more painfull to live in Boxes Full Of Shit Apartment, or to accept them as post tree modern art? Ah. I want to cry.