These Damn Boxes

The boxes are still piled up in the living room. Nothing is getting unpacked, and I can’t figure out why that is. When I was a kid, we would move and everything would be unpacked real quick. The boxes were completely out of the house in no time at all. But now, everytime we move, more things are demoted to box status. That is, they aren’t so important that they ever need to come out of the boxes.

Of course, if we had some real furniture, we probably wouldn’t have this problem. Things would be all put away, in the places they belong, on the shelves, and in the drawers where they could be easily accessed.

This grown up stuff sucks.

The worst part about furniture (aside from the fact that it costs money) is moving it. I love furniture – but every year when we move into a new apartment (yeah, eventually I’m hoping it won’t be an annual thing) we have to figure out how to move everything we own with the trucks that we don’t own. Normal people have friends and families who help them move but since I’m pretty anti-social and have no family out here, we are at a loss in that department.

Every day off that I have there are big plans to unpack the boxes, one at a time. I think about walking the hunks of cardboard down to the recycle bins downstairs, leaving behind an actual home, unfettered by boxes and crap. One day when money is easier to come by, we will have an acual tv stand that doesn’t resemble a stack of empty packing boxes. And one day we’ll have a tv large enough to not be able to sit atop a stack of cardboard boxes.

Hopefully one day soon.

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