This time it's stalling with packing. Scott has told me for years that I have too much stuff, and I might be willing to believe that now that I'm trying to pack up 6 years worth of married life and move out on my own.
I just don't get why I'm sad though. My new house is wonderful...Mom and Dad came up yesterday and we got the bedrooms painted (with only one "mishap" that resulted in a very clean corner of carpet in the guest room) and some things acquired for the house such as shower curtains and sofa slipcovers. I just look at the stuff here though and want to cry, it's like I can't decide where to even start. I have cleaned off my bookshelves and packed up the various and sundries from my sewing area, but that isn't even close to being all of it.
Oh, and since I'm able to post this, Charter hasn't switched my cable tv and internet to the new place yet.
I'm just ready for it all to be over, I guess. It's also frustrating doing it all by myself...I don't hold any hard feelings that my family can't help when I can do stuff...it's hard for a family full of preachers to coordinate doing anything on weekends. They are coming up here on Tuesday with stuff and to help, so maybe I can move stuff then.
It's a cardboard jungle in my den right now. I hate cardboard.