I am moving, as I type. All of my belongings are in boxes in the living room. My world is a swirl of chaos that I cannot even comprehend. I hate this part right here. I hate boxes of clothes, papers, and stuff...just stuff. Things that don't really matter, but I cannot bear to even throw away. My memories are torn apart and it will be months before I will find a sense of belonging again. This is just a stepping stone kind of move. Moving to my grandmother's house until this summer when I say I do to another address. I am now a transient.
It was a good opportunity to rid myself of some things, and yes, over fifteen bags and boxes went to Goodwill. Every time I pulled up to the door, I found a sense of renewal. It is a wonderful experience to free yourself from the clutter of the everyday. Now if only I could find the house cleaning fairy to come and do the rest.
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