Packing

Packing. It is quite possibly one of the most detested activities in life for me. Trips are fun but anyone who knows me prepares for the endless amount of moaning and groaning that occurs from the time I think about having to pack until the task is complete.

It isn't that packing itself is difficult. It is my own personality quirks that make packing about as appealing as poking my eye out. I am a highly organized person. My mother loves it because when I come home I frequently organize things in her house that are driving me crazy.

When I arrive at my destination during a vacation, I am usually happy because I have exactly what I need. I don't overpack although occasionally I will underpack. I choose exactly what I am going to wear for each day and place it on my bed as if there were a person lying on my bed wearing the clothes, earrings, necklace, and shoes that sit on the floor as it they were filled with feet.

Now imagine what is is like beginning the process of packing the house... Chris and I try to do a little each day so we won't be overwhelmed once moving day arrives. Of course our differences are now showing their face.

I said we shouldn't seal any of the boxes. Chris packed up the kitchen and sealed the boxes. He also packed up almost all of the food. Aren't we supposed to live here for another week and a half? Where are the pot holders? Did you pack all of the spatulas? Chris ended up opening the boxes.

This morning we spent more time packing. Chris kept working on the kitchen and I was in the living room. I walked into the kitchen and saw all of his packed boxes that were unsealed. He walked into the living room and saw all of my packed boxes sealed. I thought we weren't sealing any boxes? Well...we weren't...but you sealed some. Yes, and I unsealed them. Oops. Broke my own rule. Thankfully he is forgiving.

And now we are off to figure out what color we want to paint the living room... This should be another bloggable (is that a word?) experience.