Moving is a real blow to the comfort of status quo and as you prepare for that fateful day, you see your life being reduced to clutter and cardboard. Very Important decisions are now made concerning those things you once considered treasures; trash or not trash. Sometimes I wish I could just wake up and find myself in our new home and consider the whole moving experience to have been a bad dream.
It’s hard to imagine that your whole life can fit into a series of boxes; some large and some quite small. Perhaps I should count the boxes and then I could state with some pride that I have a 72 box life! But that would lead into discussions (or arguments) about regulation box size and were the boxes all filled to the top? Just that thought alone makes me philosophical and I have this sudden urge to write about the shallowness of a life filled with empty boxes…Somebody stop me!
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