The joy of packing Part one.

Well I am currently buried in a sea of boxes and junk. You would think that having moved as many times as I have, I would have this down to a science. But no, I still wander aimlessly wondering which pile to attack first and thinking screw it all, I will just buy new stuff.

Hell, my stuff has been pack so many times, you would think that it would be trained to pack itself. Wouldn't that be nice, I can see me now, standing on the side like a someone out of Harry Potter waving my wand giving orders, while my stuff flew into boxes all on its own. "Yes, red shoes you go in that box and blue shoes, you are too old, you hop in the garbage." Aaahh that would be so much easier. And so much more fun too watch too. Neighbours from all around would drop by to watch me pack, instead of running in the opposite direction at the mere mention of a moving van.

But since my wand is broken and I can't convince the books and movies to fly into the boxes on their own, I am here drowning in piles of papers, books, movies and boxes. Like a child told to clean their room, I trudge grudgingly back into the mess, thinking that there has to be an easier way. But have no fear dear friends, I will still be here, every once in a while I need to step away from the crap that seems to have overtaken my home and jump on here. So, I won't deprive you of my somewhat amusing ranting for long, I will see you soon. I am pretty sure that this rant is to be continued.