Moving on Out

Dan and I are moving soon. We have begun the traditional pre-move preparations, which begin like so:
- I open my closet an inch, using a tennis racket as a shield. There may be stuff living in there.
- I decide I shouldn't risk my life quite yet. I haven't had a farewell Diet Coke.
- I go to the kitchen, grab a Diet Coke. All this hard work makes me realize that I need a break.
- I sit down on the couch and play with the kittens.
- Gucci curls up on my lap and begins to purr.
- I fall asleep, lulled into dreamland by Gucci's purring. Fie on you purring kitten. Fie.
- Dan comes back from taking out the trash and kicks me. Well, nudges me with his foot to wake me in a not-so-loving way.
- I get up and we decide to start with the kitchen.
- We enter the kitchen and look suspiciously at all the appliances. Somewhere in the back of my head, I am remembering myself insisting that we did not need an espresso machine, waffle maker and fondue pot. Not to mention the Kitchenaid mixer, smoothie maker and vacuum sealer. I also remember being outvoted, which doesn't seem fair since there are only two of us in this marriage.
- I consider listing our entire apartment on Craigslist.
- Fed up with all the materialism that runs rampant in this household, I boycott any sort of packing for the rest of the day. I proceed to stomp off to the office.
- I get online. Oooh...Target is having a sale...

So, yes, not so much packing is being done around here. On the plus side, I'm getting in sneaky naps.