Where'd All This Stuff Come From???

We're moving. For most people who may read this, that's about enough said to make them groan. I don't know anyone who LIKES the process of moving. The excitement of finding "THE" house that we wanted to buy was great, the thrill of mentally putting things in their proper new place, envisioning new furniture to fill all that extra space, getting rid of old furniture that has been following us around . . . all of that is great! But the reality of packing really doesn't generate any fuzzy feelings - unless you're counting the dust bunnies we're chasing out from under the bed. How in the world did we manage to accumulate all this stuff in the 3 years we've lived in this house? I don't get it! When we moved in here we'd gotten rid of a lot of extra junk, and the move before that, for both my husband and I, was a post divorce move - so we'd already unloaded lots of dead weight - in addition to the ex's. Each cupboard, drawer, closet and corner seems to be overflowing with stuff that we either don't need, forgot we had, or may use "someday". We have a mountain of boxes in the family room, some more in the dining/kitchen area, more yet in our separate offices - we haven't even touched the guest room yet - eeek! So far we don't know when the new house will close, but we have to be out of the old one by mid-July. There's this limbo-stuck between worlds feeling for both of us that we'd really like to shake and begin the final move into the first home we're purchasing together. And, as if this weren't bad enough, time seems to have slowed down to negative speeds in land of belonging nowhere. They say a watched pot doesn't boil - so what should the saying be for closing a home purchase?

For now, we'll finish the packing, work around the boxes, and try not to turn blue holding our breath waiting for things to happen, and make the promise to ourselves that THIS time I hope we keep - to not keep the clutter, always be organized, and free ourselves of the bondage of too much unnecessary junk. Please pass some packing paper Honey . . .