Unpacking is like a bad game of tetris.
And I like tetris. But this version is not as fun as the original.
I've instituted a new house rule - no changing into comfy clothes after work until I unpack some boxes.
I've only broken it once - yesterday - and that was because I brought work home so I could watch the sugar bowl. Which was a great, and stress-filled game, as any good football match-up should be. And my team won. Hooray! and Go Bucks!
:)
So for the two-whole-other days this week since the new policy has been in place, I've been able to get a lot unpacked, but tonight there was an obnoxious amount of moving shite around the room - from one already-filled tabletop/bookshelf/chair/empty space to another. And in between trying to collapse empty boxes, herd the crazy amounts of loose paper, and figure out what's in the boxes, I was also quickly trying to discern what junk should go to the office, and what should stay in a box, given a place in my new home or pitched. Kinda hateful.
But - on the bright side - it's snowing outside.
And I get to park my car in an underground heated garage.
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