My family is heading up to Virginia next weekend, to help me and Andrew begin moving our things into our new home (!), and my organized self decided to start packing today. What is the easiest thing to pack up? Books! I have a couple hundred books, double-stacked on three shelves, one shelf entirely dedicated to children's liteature. Everyone knows: I love books.
The problem? I love books. In the last hour, I have packed up my shelf of children's books, and stood, staring, at each of the other book shelves in my room. At each book I picked up to begin packing, I paused, thinking. What if I want to read this book? What if Lindsay wants to read it while she's here? What if I need it? So, I put it back on the shelf. J.K. Rowling, Hopkins, Eudora Welty, Annie Dillard, Brian Jacques, Kate DeCamillo, John Steinback... still sitting there, no closer to Virginia. Because I might need them.
Photo via kaylamj.blogspot.com
Can I please have this room? I'll never move again.