Little boxes, big boxes, big headache!

For the past two weeks I have been immersed in sorting stuff, packing stuff and throwing out stuff. Quite frankly, I’m stuffed.

Yep, we are in the process of moving to another city. The cartons arrived about a week ago and I’ve had to decide how to fill them. This has to be one of the most excruciating experiences in life. I keep on complaining that I’m not good at this sort of thing. It’s killing me!

My laconic husband makes an entrance. He is calm and patronising… so annoying. He can’t see what the problem is. Why don’t I just decide what I want to keep and where I want to pack it?

He’s full of useless advice like that. If I could decide what I want to keep and if I knew where to pack it, there wouldn’t be a problem, would there?

I probably won’t post anything for a few days because my precious computer will be packed away tomorrow and who knows when Telstra will connect broadband at the other end?

Shouldn’t take me too long to unpack, I imagine. All I have to know is where I want to store all that stuff. How hard can that be?


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