Whenever I move houses – and I do so very frequently for professional reasons – I strive to turn my new place into a real home, my home, as quickly as I can. Last time around I set a new record: I finished the whole thing in just two days of intensive laboring – except for the last five percent. It’s the last boxes that don’t get unpacked. The one or two lamps that don’t get put up. The shoe cabinet that never gets assembled. I don’t know why. I always end up not finishing the last five percent.
Tag: grief
Unopened boxes
So I’ve started this decluttering project of mine. Beginning with the guest room. Well, at least that was the plan. You know that feeling? This urge that sneaks up on you, suggesting to do something different from what you planned on doing? Yep. This one. The procrastinator.
my one life. today 