Packing can be fun sometimes.

What does it take to make reality set in? A tape gun.

Yesterday I started the major purge-or-pack routine, again, except with a stronger vengeance. I packed my first few boxes, and I have no place to put them that's out of the way, which of course puts my apartment right back into disaster mode. Expect photos of bruised shins in the near future.

However, packing was made extra fun by my dear aunt Donna who, by sending an ironically timed joke gift, has enabled me to be an organized packer. After her visit here in September, when she helped me UNpack my remaining boxes from the July move, she sent me a really awesome label maker. I mean, like, REALLY awesome. At the time it was intended to help me label the organizer boxes I was putting on shelves, but now it allows me to put very cool labels on every box!! I'm rather enjoying it.

Other than that, I turned on my shredder and went to TOWN yo! I found bank statements and pay stubs from 2001 with my Waltham address on them. That's like...at LEAST 5 addresses ago. (Brooklyn 2, Brooklyn 1, Manhattan 2, Manhattan 1, Brookline, Waltham.) And so I shred. And being the clever girl I am, I am keeping all the shreddings to use as packing cushioning for fragile stuff, so I'm shredding everything in sight. Shreddy shred shred. I heart shred.

So that's the scoop from the hood. Today's agenda: more shredding followed by packing whatever I decide is something I won't need for the next 3 weeks...and that's hard. I mean, I TOTALLY could have people over and play Star Wars Trivial Pursuit at any moment.