We leave Alabama in 11 days. But who's counting? *jumps up and down waving arms* Me! Me!
I know I said it was finally real 10 days ago, but now it's really real. The first round of packing begins tomorrow with the garage. The movers probably figured this would take them a whole day, or at least half, but we are not pack rats who fill the garage with stuff. Alas, we are the odd folks who actually park their cars inside. I know, right? Weird.
So, we're readying a few other lesser used rooms in case the packers need more work. Last summer, we were packed and loaded in one day. That's a new record, and we had to scramble for a hotel since we hadn't planned to be out of the house for two more nights. Honestly, that was kind of irritating. This is all stressful enough as it is.
But, ready or not, it's happening. Hubby emptied out the Wavemaster bag on which I unleash all my frustrations. I've cleared out my upstairs writing lair of anything I plan to tote with us. We're putting out the kids' old bicycles for charity in the morning.
This weekend is going to be all about getting our–ahem–stuff together, setting aside what we want to take, and making sure it will fit in the cars. We have to unplug the electronics, take apart the cross-trainer, take down the few pictures we bothered to hang for our 10-month tour, and weed out liquids, flammables, other prohibited items.
Oh, and empty the trash cans, because, yes, they will pack your dirty tissues if you let them. Seriously.
Here's to movin' on.
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