I feel as though at this moment my life is made up of one of four questions. For example:
1. "What exactly is this?"
2. "Where exactly did it come from?"
3. "Do I really need it?"
4. "Should I take it with me?"
Sometimes these can be dangerous questions. Take number one for example, I've found that in some cases, it's a good question to skip. Number two as well, it can cause great harm if one isn't careful.
In all seriousness though, they're hard questions to answer. So basically, I either box, throw, or store everything.
I wish a comic strip could be made out of this whole packing experience. I'd give the artist/writer enough material to send their own kids to college. Until then, just imagine a very frightened mouse being chased down by a cat while I frantically pack boxes around them both. "Sure Mom, someday this will be funny." Oh well, back to my boxes.
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