Packing Heavy (Day 233)

You know what makes me very angry? When people ask: “If you were stranded on a desert island and could have one item with you, what would it be?”

I MEAN WHO COULD EVER PICK ONE ITEM?

Unless that item is “The entire contents of my home.”

I do not pack light. 

Ever. 

I even had a large waterproof bag that I tied to my tube when I went tubing.

I do not have the mental bandwidth to make critical decisions about which items to bring. My Facebook memories have been all about the move we made 5 years ago from our 1920s bungalow in Lindenwold to our 1900s four-square in Haddon Township.

As anyone who has moved will tell you: moving is like a whole freaking thing and involves a whole bunch of stuff. 

My feeds are also filled with parents moving their kids into dorms and apartments at college, which is also a whole freaking thing and involves a whole bunch of stuff.  

And today, we packed up for a long weekend away, which is also a whole freaking thing and involves a whole bunch of stuff. 

When we moved, the movers complained about “heavy boxes,” which at the time seemed a bit dramatic. But, I still have not unpacked some of those heavy boxes, because they are too heavy. When I moved in and out of the dorm, my Dad offered to give me a check to buy all new things if I agreed to just leave all my boxes behind. (Note: I accepted the check and still brought my stuff. I cannot be bribed!) 

Today, I packed a wardrobe that could probably get me through October. (and I definitely have enough clean underwear to get through mid-September) and I have 3 different wedding guest dresses (you know, in case after the wedding we attend, there are two more weddings that pop up in the Blue Ridge Mountains. 

I mean, it is entirely possible, right? 


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