The Terrifying Task of Packing and Moving (In That Temporary, Collegiate Fashion)

Hello internet people. Summer’s nearly through, which means it’s that time again–time to move back to campus (can you believe this is my third time? Wow. I’m old).

And this semester, my glorious friends (Gina, Lesley, and Emily) and I are moving not into a dorm but into our very own (on campus) apartment! Which, aside from being INCREDIBLY EXCITING, also means that, in my excitement, I’ve acquired two giant bags of extra stuff that I bought in preparation for living in our very own space with MORE THAN ONE ROOM. Yes, that’s right. I can do homework on our couch, not my bed. I can eat in a kitchen, not my bed. I can sleep in my bed… and only sleep there! Those of you who’ve lived in a dorm understand the great and glorious reality that this presents. It is terribly, terribly exciting stuff we’re talking about here.

Just one of the many stacks lying around the house.

But with T-10 days to move in, I find myself facing the daunting prospect of packing up my life and moving it 4 hours away for the duration of the school year. And what do I do to tackle that giant stack of stuff in the basement and in my room and probably scattered throughout the house that entails the material possessions that I need in my life? Obviously, I stare at it in horror and then hide under the covers watching TV and eating ice cream. Obviously.

The trouble is, no matter how excited I am, my stuff is not actually going to sort through itself and climb into boxes that will apparate themselves into the trunk of my car in time to move in next Sunday (NEXT SUNDAY!). At some point, I have to tackle the giant mess in my basement and the giant mess in my room and get it into a form that can be stuffed into my beloved ’92 Honda Accord and be moved to the glorious apartment that my friends and I have all dubbed “Beezus.”

I guess the moral of the story here is that it’s hard sometimes to motivate yourself to do the things that you KNOW you need to do. In fact, the more pressing the matter becomes, sometimes the more tempting it is to do everything you can to avoid actually doing it.

Of course, I know I’ll eventually motivate myself to sort through it all and get packed up. Until then, I can always waste more time blogging about it. Feel free to procrastinate whatever you should be doing by telling me about it in the comments. Because what else is the internet for if not to avoid doing stuff?


On The New and Terrible Temptations of the Home Section

Hello, internet people! In the wake of the recent Batman shooting tragedy, it feels terribly insensitive for me to start this post without first saying I would like to extend my sympathies to those in Colorado who so unfairly are faced with the horrors of a mass shooting. I have no words to comfort those who have lost someone or those who must continue to live with the horrible feeling that even somewhere that’s supposed to be safe, the movie theater, can become a place of death with the simple entrance of one person with the wrong ideas in their head (I don’t pretend to understand his motives. I think no sane person can.) And therefore, I will not try to say anything else about it, except that my thoughts, sympathies, and even prayers are with those affected.

Today’s post, however, has a lighter note, I promise. I’m going to talk about a little battle of willpower and temptation that I’m having on a regular basis, thanks to my working at a department store that sells all sorts of lovely tempting things at even more lovely tempting prices.

Those of you who know me personally are already aware, but for those of you who may not, let me explain–three of my closest friends and I are getting an apartment at college this semester. While it’s not the most glamorous of places, I’m sure, considering it’s a student apartment run by our school and has no doubt seen things that would make us cringe, if walls could talk (to borrow the overused by apt expression), I am nonetheless incredibly excited. It’s a taste of freedom! It’s not a dorm! We’re going to have our own KITCHEN, our own COUCH, our own little LIVING ROOM, our own BATHROOM! Gone are the days of one room with everything crammed together! Can you tell I’m excited?

But my excitement is taking on a rather unfortunate form–I want to buy EVERYTHING I see that could possibly be of any use to us in our new (to us) apartment. And where do I work? Surrounded by HOME GOODS for heaven’s sake. Oh sure, I can hide up front with the clothes and workout gear (often pretty tempting themselves) but I can’t always avoid the department we know as “60/80.” I’ll walk by the kitchen gadgets and see a bright colored spatula we just HAVE TO HAVE. Or adorable patterned brooms and dustpans that we DEFINITELY need. Pots and pans. Little decorate budda statues made to hold candles. Candles themselves. Placemats shaped like hamburgers. It goes on and on, every other day a new trunk brings new housewares to tempt my money out of my pocket.

Proudly showing off THE EAGLE (Our frying pan. Yes, we named it.)

Sometimes, I just can’t stop myself. To date, I’ve bought a frying pan, a cook book, a bowl, a shower curtain liner, a grocery list notepad, roommate citations (for fun and usefulness), a toaster (which my mom kindly bought for me) and probably a few other things that don’t yet come to mind. There are just so many THINGS I want to have, and I justify it by telling myself “This isn’t the only apartment you’ll ever have. These things will be useful for a while!” I think I have a sickness. A “shopping for the apartment we have fondly named Beezus” sickness. The only possible cure will be the horror that settles in when I total up how much my books are going to cost this semester, and that’s still a little ways off.

The moral of the story? I’m not sure there is one. I only hope some of you can identify with my sudden desire to spend money on things that, yes will probably be useful, but which I probably don’t actually NEED the way it feels I do. This must be the feeling I’m told some women get around shoes, or purses. Here I thought I was immune to those kinds of things… little did I know I’d become a home goods nut. It’s a good thing I work at a discount store… or is it?