This isn't the most lovely photo, it's not even decent. But, it's kind of funny how accurate it is of life lately. The proof?
1. Dusty, disgusting mirror
2. Rumpled, filthy rug
3. Beagle furiously sniffing out all of the dead bugs unearthed in the moving around of things
4. Boxes, mostly still empty, absolutely everywhere
5. Stepstool, used daily to fish something out of a high stack
6. Empty furnishings, sad stacked dvd storage behind me, piles emptied from my junk drawer in the bedroom
7. We won't talk about the nightmare happening on top of my dresser just behind that door with the belt haphazardly looped over a knob
8. Wet hair, unbrushed, because I don't feel like it
9. Oh, yeah, and a last hurrah for some of my more attractive clothing, because I'm saving all my good stuff until after the move
Also not up for discussion? The multitude of floor-scattered sorting projects. The plethora of hangers now sadly hanging derelict in my closet since everything good from wintertime is in a duffel. Remnants of my grand plan to get gone a bunch of stuff in a garage sale. We're also without a sofa, kind of. Our houndstooth couch found a new home with our neighbors and, after June 1, the sofa we're temporarily housing for our friends, purchased from another neighbor, is going away and we'll be seat-less for a month. Lots of Hulu watching in bed and only passed hors d'ouvres parties. Mashed up with a box obstacle course in our living room.
Transition is funny. Packing our lives up into four large suitcases and carefully planned boxes of winter coats and books to be shipped in the fall is a tricky thing.
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