My house threw up this morning. Stuff everywhere, all for giving away. Suddenly, all my sorting and cleaning out of closets seems to have erupted and landed on every flat surface of our living space. The boxes also arrived yesterday. I suppose all of this means I can start packing, and really should start packing.
But I feel a bit listless about it all. I just sat on the couch and knitted in the afternoon, my feet tucked under the legs of my husband, who just arrived home after a week out of town. I think this frequently happens right at the outset of a big project like moving. I get bummed and lose my tempo or my energy drive, or somethin.
I'm going to go eat another cinnamon roll, and maybe have a cup of coffee. Book anyone? Maybe I should file my nails. The important stuff can wait, can't it?