Not so little boxes, not all in a row. |
I moved into my house nearly seven months ago, and in the first couple months, I made progress going through boxes—when I could, in between doing things to get our house in Auckland sold. Then, it did sell. Then, we went under lockdown, and everything changed.
I continued to unpack boxes, concentrating on finishing the kitchen and dining room (so those rooms would be done), then all the books that went into my office. And I kept going—until I couldn’t.
My garage, already filled with boxes waiting to be emptied, became impassable because of all the flattened empty boxes filling up every available space. The day I moved in, the movers told me that all I had to do was phone them and they’d come back and collect the empty boxes. But that couldn’t happen during lockdown, and once that ended, I got busy with other things and kept forgetting to ring them, so I sent an email.
Yesterday, I got a call that they would be here in 30-45 minutes to collect the boxes. Despite the short notice, I was eager to accept. Good thing I was home.
I pulled all the boxes outside the garage (pictured), but I closed the overhead door when I was done, because I’m actually kind of embarrassed by how much is still in there. I shouldn’t be, and overall I’m not, but still.
After lockdown and every other obstacle, I came to accept the fact that clearing the garage will take as long as it takes. But I also didn’t want to continue to be stalled, and those boxes were an obstacle, literally and figuratively, to un-stalling the project. Now they’re not.
Today, I’d planned on starting work rearranging the stuff in the garage, then thought I should really finish my office first, but I ended up doing neither due to an ongoing gout attack that started a week ago. Best laid plans again.
Still, this latest development is a major step forward, and now all I have to do is capitalise on it. That, and remember that plans can go off track. Best laid plans, and all that.
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