But instead I am;
Writing this blog post.
Browsing tea/coffee/sugar canisters and tea towels. Because my current ones don’t go in the new kitchen, and obvs that is very important, more important than, say, ensuring we are actually ready to move in 3 days.
Looking after a poorly child. Ish. He is 11. He is on the sofa under a blanket watching YouTube clips on his Nexus – BUT he might need me urgently and if I was upstairs packing a box I might miss a sudden development – a slip into meningitis, or more likely a snot related screen issue.
Wondering whether we could just leave all this shit here, and buy new shiny shit that gets delivered directly by courier to the new house, thus circumventing the need to pack at all.
In denial. I am in denial that we are moving at the weekend. It is hard to maintain this level of denial in a room full of half packed cardboard boxes and empty shelves, but I am working VERY hard at pretending there isn’t a MA-HOOSIVE amount to do.
Doing important other stuff. Like picking this spot on my chin and thinking about who I most hate on CBeebies, and debating whether I can justify yet another take away/pub dinner because I am TOO BUSY PACKING to cook or shop.
But look. Here is a picture of some neatly boxed stuff. That counts right. Even though they are not my boxes, I didn’t pack them and they bear no relevance whatsoever to my life other than finding the pic gifted me another 60 seconds that didn’t involve packing.
Anyway, must dash, have a sudden urge to dye my hair….
Love Miss Cisco XXX