The Big Move
The thing I've been dreading most of all in the immediate wedding-related future is the move from two households into one. Specifically, me moving out of my apartment and into his condo. The hardest part was the fact that my apartment was in full-catastrophe-mess mode as of the proposal, so it needs to be cleaned AND packed.
It's all under control now, thanks to two revelations.
Revelation #1: My mother considers my cat her grandson. This means that next Portland, when we go to visit my parents, the cat will come with us and live with the "grandparents" for the next couple of months. Not only does this mean he will get plenty of attention, but he won't have to spend two months freaking out over change. There were no other nice options. He's not enjoying living at my place right now (chaos, combined with me rarely home), and he'd freak out if he moved into the sweetie's house now (get used to all of sweetie's stuff, then add my stuff to the mix). Now all we need to do is go to the vet's office to get the tranquilizers so sweetie and I don't go insane during the car trip.
Revelation #2: I don't have an apartment anymore, I have a 700 square foot closet. Psychologically, it makes it much easier to tackle what needs to be done. I don't need to clean house and pack. I need to organize my cloest. I'm also attempting to minimize to some extent while going through everything. I'll never be a minimalist, but I can at least get rid of some of my useless crap.
It's all under control now, thanks to two revelations.
Revelation #1: My mother considers my cat her grandson. This means that next Portland, when we go to visit my parents, the cat will come with us and live with the "grandparents" for the next couple of months. Not only does this mean he will get plenty of attention, but he won't have to spend two months freaking out over change. There were no other nice options. He's not enjoying living at my place right now (chaos, combined with me rarely home), and he'd freak out if he moved into the sweetie's house now (get used to all of sweetie's stuff, then add my stuff to the mix). Now all we need to do is go to the vet's office to get the tranquilizers so sweetie and I don't go insane during the car trip.
Revelation #2: I don't have an apartment anymore, I have a 700 square foot closet. Psychologically, it makes it much easier to tackle what needs to be done. I don't need to clean house and pack. I need to organize my cloest. I'm also attempting to minimize to some extent while going through everything. I'll never be a minimalist, but I can at least get rid of some of my useless crap.
posted by Swankette at 9:55 PM
1 Comments:
Wow! A 700 sq foot closet would be sooooo kewl!!! Imagine an entire wall for shoes, all the purses hung out on display. One of Realsupergirl's co-workers has a closet just for accessories, and it's beautifully organized, like stepping into a cute little boutique. A special shelf for all the hats where I could see each of them instead of them all being nested inside one another. Oh, and a maid to dust everything regularly and do all the little sewing repairs while she's there. I miss my house of swank closet.
kaphin
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