Knowing that we are moving in a matter of weeks has proven to be a test of patience. Given how streamlined our possessions now are, packing should be a fairly simple process. There will be no going-through-for-unwanted items because the only extra/unused thing we own at the moment is a broken Union Jack umbrella that I am holding onto for sentimental reasons. Even if I should decide it needs to go, I know where it is and discarding it should take less than a minute. There will be no organizing, I’ve had my fun there and there’s nothing left to sort. It will merely be a matter of packing things for a journey that could be walked in three minutes. Starting now would mean more upheaval for the hubby and the littles and any family that moves as often as we must should limit the chaos as much as possible. So I restrain myself.
But I’m itching to start, friends. For once I’m indulging my tendency to productively procrastinate to the fullest. I’ve scrubbed out behind the refrigerator in advance and embroidered a set of new drying towels to replace the over-loved ones in the drawer. Might as well start fresh, right?