Movin' Out

Friday, my mother and I moved everything out of my apartment. We filled a cargo van and my little car. I had to leave my vacuum and desk chair at a friend’s to be picked up in January. I had a ton of stuff.

We arrived at home where my brother and father waited to help unload everything. We made what felt like 100 trips from outside to inside, where the bag, box, or suitcase would be evaluated and sent upstairs, downstairs, or into the dining room to be dealt with on Saturday.

My dad couldn’t believe how many boxes there were. ‘How did it all fit in your apartment?’ he wondered. I just laughed, but I too am amazed with how much stuff I own. Clothing and shoes, kitchen appliances and computer accessories all multiplying from move in to move out. What can I say? I like my stuff. I like whipping up waffles from scratch with my waffle iron. Making popcorn in my popcorn popper. My flat purple suede boots and heeled pink pleather are necessities, thank you very much. I am getting nervous to pack for a semester in 2 suitcases. This could be trouble.