Our home will be packed up a month from today. Oh, thankfully not by me (what were you thinking?), but by a group of industrious, polite, slip-on-shoes-wearing, cigarette-smoke-drenched Japanese movers who will surprise us with their wiry strength, stamina, and ability to wrap absolutely everything carefully and properly. Unlike the dolt U.S. movers six years ago, one of whom lovingly triple-wrapped a light bulb from an antique lamp (bought several years before off a down-on-his-luck raggle-taggle guy in an El Camino heading through California to visit his aunt, no lie). The light bulb arrived in Japan in pristine condition, while the (antique) lamp, loaded diagonally into a flimsy box--crunch!--did not.
But I digress. Which is not surprising, in light of the fact that I am doing just a tiny bit of procrastinating, and I am very, very good at it. Husband thinks I should take great interest in sorting through our craft-room/computer room/"green" room (lovely carpet)/equivalent-of-a-junk-drawer room. Someone has to do it, and I'm the only one home at present.
But who in her right mind would want to take a stab at weeding through piles of stuff like this?
And can't it be done later, maybe 29 days from now? Because I am busy eating chocolate and drinking multiple cups of Tulsi tea while reading blogs, like this beautiful/hilarious one about small-town Germany, this American crafter-in-Germany one, and this super-informative one about being an expat in Germany. All in the name of research, of course.