ON THE MOVE

(Notice my trash bag shade. Ingenuity!)

I'm moving again.  No, not residentially.  Professionally.  For the second time in twelve months, I am loading up bins and carting all my school shit from our temporary school back to our newly remodeled school.  Forty bins this time. 

The problem with the last move was two-fold: #1 the movers lost/broke/messed up most of our stuff; #2 some of what was unpacked from our stuff got stolen by high school teachers trolling for yard sale items.

This time I decide to smarten up.  I invest $30 of cash into buying boxes that will fit nicely inside of the bins, and I box up most of the important stuff, taping it over several times and adding labels that nicely say, "Thanks for moving my stuff, but please do not open this box.  I will unpack it in September.  Thanks!"

I am praying it works.

In the meantime, though, truly important stuff, like my entire curriculum, has come home in boxes.  I would rather live through a few months of mayhem than lose the stuff.  I've also carted home some furniture that I don't want stolen that didn't get labeled to be moved.

In other words, my house now looks like an earthquake zone.  There is mayhem EVERYWHERE.  Worst of all, the damn stuff is starting to protest being here instead of at school.

This morning I decide to do some laundry.  As soon as I turn the corner on the landing to head down the cellar stairs, the door slams shut behind me.

This is not good.  I am home alone, and the door should still be wide open.  Either someone has shut me in, or something from the pile of crap has fallen over and trapped me in the basement. 

I put the laundry basket down on the landing and push on the door.  Luckily, it opens just enough for me to crawl back into the den.  A folding chair has fallen over sideways, semi-blocking my exit and giving me a minor heart attack.

I hate to say this, but I almost (ALMOST) cannot wait to get back to school so I can get all of this damn crap out of my house.  My downstairs den and upstairs office both look like giant junk closets.  But, I am pleased to report that I am not trapped in my cellar doing endless laundry like some ridiculous housewife version of the Flying Dutchman, and I will indeed be able to complete my LAST DAY OF SCHOOL FOR THIS YEAR on Monday.

Hallelujah!  Bring on the summer, kids.  I'll kick aside the boxes full of curriculum and meet you at the beach.