Saturday, January 2, 2010

Ode to Boxes, Rubbermaid Containers, Suitcases, etc.

Why do you hate me so?

You see around you an entire room that needs to be packed up before Tuesday morning, and yet you refuse to lift a finger and help me fill each and everyone of you with books, clothes, and shoes.

Never mind that I have protected you from many plights. I'm not sure what threats come to containers and suitcases, but you get the point. I've provided you a sound home, and for what? You sit there as I stuff you full of the contents of my room and for what? Not even an offering of thanks for my filling your bellies (for lack of a better word) with sub-couture clothing? You make me sick, containers. Nauseated at the idea that I took you in.

We've been through this once before. You made me pack three of you, suitcases! Three! No help, no encouragement. You just sat and took it and I gave you a marvelous intercontinental trip for doing nothing. To a third-world country, but still. It's the thought that counts, goshdarnit!

Alas, I have no more motivation to pack you. But I have to. Tell me where the justice is in that. Where? Where is it!? Tell me!

How did I do this seven months ago without cracking up? And how did I do it with a baggage weight limit?


Sir Nottaguy-Imadad said...

I have a shovel if you want to use it.

Theresa said...

By the time you have made a quarter of a million trips up to the top floor, you will wish that there were weight limits! Experience speaking here.

Jewel said...

Off on another adventure! I'm so excited for you, Becky!!! Get to packin' those storage boxes, girl!! But then, if you are a procrastinator like me, you will no doubt be packing up until you walk out the door Tuesday! :-)