Something there is that does not love to unpack. It's probably the part of me that realizes that once again, I will have to sort, throw out, and donate so much stuff. Thankfully, the vast bulk of the effort was undertaken last year, but I don't really enjoy the prospect of doing it again - it just makes me want to gag. Plus, unpacking is the final surrender to the realization that I'm home, that dts is over, that for nine long weeks I am going to be in Lancaster. But let's be honest: nine weeks is no seven months.
I'm a tricky sort of character. I don't think I'm lazy, per se, I just have other things that I would rather be doing. But when you can't walk from your door to your bed (four feet away) without tripping, something must be done. Still, I have to trick myself by pretending that I'm oh so casually picking up a stray piece of paper and tossing it in the trash. Then I oh so casually pick up another one, and another one, and before you know it, there's actually a few square feet of linoleum visible (yes, my bedroom floor IS linoleum... I live in the basement... carpet is impractical if the sump pump overflows...). So really, it's just a matter of misleading myself into doing what I want me to do.
So now I'm in the procrastination bit because I feel really accomplished with my two trash bags worth of stuff carted away. True, one hasn't made it to the thrift store yet, but that's because it's not open on Sunday. Hopefully Mother doesn't panic about the recurrence of floating trash bags outside my door. She likes it when I clean, but doesn't understand that it ALWAYS gets worse before it gets better. In her defense, usually the worse sticks around for years before I get a brain short and frenetically throw everything away with the air of one doing something profound.
And what does procrastination look like, you might ask (just pretend, k thanks). It looks like I went upstairs to put away my french press, coffee grinder, and mug, got distracted by what looked like a cobweb in my eyelashes, plucked my eyebrows, ate applesauce, checked facebook, ate cole slaw, got caught in a chat conversation with someone I haven't talked to in years, ate potato salad, listened to some other rough cuts of Brad Owens's songs, decided that now would be a splendid time to write a blog post. The stupid part about all of this is that what I ultimately wanted to do was to spend some serious Jesus time reading all of the shorter Pauline epistles, so I'm really just shooting myself in the foot because I still have laundry to put away and a bathroom cart thing to deal with before I can say done for the night. And tonight is early crash time because a) I'm still post-dts tired; b) I haven't had caffeine in the past six hours so I'll actually have a chance of getting to sleep early; and b) I have to work tomorrow. Yes, I did just use "b" twice, no, I'm not going to correct it.
Now... If I can only convince myself that I'm just going to put away my dental floss or something...