So much, too much

The lack of posts as of late has nothing to do with a lack of topics and/or opinions floating around in Ye Olde Noggin, and everything to do with the fact that this blog is not a cardboard box/paintbrush/tub of wall spackle/small boys who have finally returned to school this morning (thankyousweetbabyjesusonasled) after two days off for cold. Apparently we’re raising a bunch of pansies delicate flowers, as I recall going to school when it was -5, and I had to walk to the school bus stop. Uphill. Both ways. Barefoot. And we liked it!

Excuse me, my curmudgeon is showing.

The House of Chaos is just a wee bit more chaotic than usual, if you could possibly believe it. The house is going on the market on Monday, so help me…, and it’s been a flurry of preparations. So many flurries that I didn’t leave the house for five days, which was a bit of an issue yesterday when I realized my winter parka was out in the MomVan where I left it on Friday. When it was nearly 70 degrees. Yesterday it got up to a whopping 12 or something. So, yeah, I’m a little distracted lately.

But I’ve noticed something.

The more I pack and move and drag out to the PODS/garage/garbage toter, the more relaxed I get. And surprisingly, it’s not because I’m that much closer to being done. It’s more than that.

I hate clutter. Clutter and I are mortal enemies. Clutter is not welcome here, because then I’d have to clean it/store it/deal with it. So I regularly take stuff to the thrift store, the used book store, the recycling center. If it doesn’t have a purpose, why should it live here? I thought I was doing a pretty good job of this…with the exception of Tom’s office, because damn, I don’t have enough hours in a day to take care of that disaster, and I don’t own a blowtorch.

And then I started gathering stuff up for The Big Move.

Holy. Hell.

Like a bad horror movie, clutter started crawling out of the walls. Muttering “brains…brains!!!,” it proceeded to wreak havoc on the house. Three old Palm Pilots; where were those living? Office supplies…I’m positive they were having some sort of orgy. Sheet music. Files. DVDs. Books…my God, the BOOKS! As I gained the upper hand and began to regain control, I went from panicked reaction to calm and cool planning.

Why do we need all this stuff?

How much of it is really necessary? When there is so much stuff around, I feel like it’s all clamoring for my attention; that’s why I’m so diligent about getting rid of it. I can’t concentrate on the things that are important to me when there’s all this stuff around. That’s probably why I get so much more done with MacDreamy2 when I’m at the library. What I’ve noticed as I’ve been packing is that I’m most comfortable in the rooms that are the emptiest. The basement is currently a nightmare of epic proportions (I swear I get hives thinking about heading down there this afternoon), but the family room is cleared and staged and pleasant.

Hm.

Despite anything we do, we’re going to be in a considerably smaller house once we’re in Chicago. Just how it’s gonna be. Tom and I are totally in favor. We’re not going to need two home offices anymore, nor will we really have a need for a dedicated guest room. A basement is still a burning necessity, as is a decent sized yard, but the rest of the house…well, smaller may be better for us. We have so much, too much. If we really want to live our values of family first and experiences over things, we need to walk the talk.

Things are going to change, and not just our address.

So much. Too much.

Now back to the regularly scheduled packing.