I’ve packed up exactly two boxes, and I remember how much I hate moving. I haven’t even had to move that many times in my life, but each time, it’s a huge pain. Mostly I’m worried all the little glass pieces are going to crumble from one house to another. I start out meticulously wrapping each piece and taping it together, and near the end they’re just rolled up in a rag that I hope I don’t drop when I open.

The weirdest part is packing up boxes full of things you know you can live without. Having boxes that can remain packed for weeks before you wonder where something is located. Why do we even have these things in the first place? Makes me think I could become a minimalist and live with only the things I haven’t packed up in boxes yet.

But then why did we buy such a big house? 🙂