I'm moving stuff all the time, literally. Bringing stuff to consignment this AM because we are planning on moving this year. The more things I can get rid of now, the better. Actually have been in this mindset for over a year now and have pared down my things to what I love. My husband saids to take a picture of
it, a photo album of things is easier to manage than boxes and piles for sure. Many things have been donated to various charities, my favorite right now is the
vets. Nope, never will have another tag sale. The last one was the summer of 2010 WITH GOD AS MY WITNESS, never again... I am so scarred.
I've helped move too many family members out of their houses and refuse to collect things anymore and hold on to them for the sake of X. The final straw was spending a s-l-o-w and mentally wrecking year of lighting a fire under my pa's ass to clean out his garage. The whole ordeal was a psychologists dream with layers and layers of issues, childhood into adulthood problems, for everyone concerned. Just coming up with a sentence to reflect the situation is giving me heart palpitations, honestly too. I believe moving and packing is in part a mental challenge, being faced with yourself in a material way and figuring out ways to move shit around. You learn a lot about people (and yourself too,
if you chose to) by their stuff. I'm just happy that moving people out of their houses is over, physically at least.