After 4.5 years in the same apartment in Oakland, in July I moved about 40 miles northwest to the bustling burg of Petaluma. That was, what, almost three months ago? Why is it there are still packed boxes of crap lying about my house?
Gah! It’s not like I accumulate a lot of stuff (if cds don’t count, that is). I actually go well out of my way not only to avoid acquiring things for which I have no use, but I also actively jettison anything which I find that’s broken, doesn’t fit, is ugly or simply has no other reason to be taking up my space.
Still, if I turn around and look over my shoulder I’ll see there a number of boxes covering about half of the office floor. A couple of them are in various states of unpacking, but for the most part they’re just collecting dust. Logically speaking, there’s really no reason why I couldn’t have dispatched these a couple of months ago. Open a box, sit down, sort out the detritus and put away the rest. Is that really so difficult? Apparently it is. Or at least it’s more difficult than sitting here whining about it.
There’s a very strong temptation to just start shuttling boxes up to the attic, there to hide and be forgotten until the next time they need to be moved to another address. It would be so quick, so easy… But, no. A move is hard enough without having to schlep extraneous crap across the county (or country, as I’ve learned the hard way).
*sigh* I suppose I’ll just have to suck it up, buckle down and sort through the boxes. Even if I only get through one a week, that’s still two square feet of floor space reclaimed on a weekly basis.