So for this past week I’ve been needing to clean and start packing up my apartment, as I have to be completely moved out by May 31. It seems like I have a lot of time, but my method of cleaning goes something like pack a box, get distracted by something, sit down and end up turning on an episode of “The Office” (Rahul got me addicted) only to realize 15 minutes later I’m supposed to be packing. So, naturally, it takes me longer than most. If I had creatures to help me like in the “Happy Working Song” in Enchanted, this would be done by now but, alas, that only works in Disney movies.
But the funny thing about packing is what you uncover in the process. I have a bad habit about not throwing stuff away, and so far I’ve made two huge piles of trash consisting of credit card offers, empty envelopes, post cards I don’t care to keep, old planners, old notes, printed off copies of stuff I have on my computer, the list goes on and on. At the same time, you uncover a few wonderful things—yesterday, I found a bunch of old pictures of me and my family in the 1990s, and I took a few minutes to look through them. There were a few of my sister and I in matching outfits, one of my Dad and I at Cafe du Monde with powdered sugar all over our faces (which I especially loved, since I just went there again this past spring), countless pictures of my family on hiking trips.
This is the part of packing that I love—being able to delve through the past for a little bit. And even though I know all of these pictures and old memories will make the trip to my new apartment, wherever that might be, I still feel totally satisfied in taking a few minutes out of my day to sit down in the middle of packing boxes to relive moments of my 5 year old self.
And I would also feel totally satisfied in inviting over creatures to help me clean if it was going to make the packing process move faster. But we all can’t live our lives in a Disney movie, Giselle.