The boxes are staring at me. And I think they’re judging me too.

In the middle of our floor, between the living room and the dining room, is a large pile of cardboard boxes.  They are something of an eyesore, yes, but more than that, they are clear evidence of a big huge project that has yet to be begun.  We brought these boxes home last night and the plan is that we will put all of our things in them.  It’s daunting.  I look at them and I feel daunted.  And taunted.  I’m pretty sure the boxes are judging me for letting them sit in the middle of the room and not doing anything with them.

And it must be done because we are moving next weekend.  And no, we have not yet found the apartment of our dreams, but because we currently live in the apartment of someone else’s dreams and we sold it to them, we have to leave.  So we’ve found a month-to-month rental in a basement suite so we can continue searching for the perfect home at leisure without having to live in a park while we do it.  Call me soft, but I don’t think I have it in me to live in a park.

It means we have to move twice though, which is a shame.  Moving is up high on that list of big stressful life things – up there with death and divorce and dentist appointments.  I’d imagine that living in a park is more stressful though – all those squirrels and whatnot.

I’m excited though.  I love change.  I hate the process of moving, but I LOVE decorating.  I can’t wait to pick a new apartment to buy so I can start being focused in my dreams of decorating.  But even moving to the rental, there’s the fun of finding places for things.  Like where should the mugs go?  I love that.

But first thing is first.  Must fill all the boxes.