Yeah. Turns out that? What a stupid freaking idea. I don't know WHO I thought was going to do the unpacking on the other end of the move. Although, since I'm bitching about this now, more than a year after we moved, I clearly didn't do the unpacking, or at least not all of it. So I guess that's three incredibly stupid moves on my part--1.) not doing any of the packing myself 2.) not preparing for the packers' arrival beyond emptying the trash cans--the amount of stuff we paid to have shipped 3000 miles just to be thrown out once we got here? Bad. and 3.) duh, not unpacking everything when we first got here.
I spent most of yesterday morning "rediscovering" the storage space of our garage. You know, there are entire boxes in there that still have the packing tape completely intact? No one has made so much as a peek inside of them. Now before you go jumping in with "TRASH THEM! If you haven't used it in a year, you don't neeeeeeed it!" (which is sound advice, I realize), just don't. Somewhere in there are things like my grandmother's high school diplomas and a framed invitation to my bat-mitzvah (what were you doing on October 20th, 1984? I was becoming a woman, my friends). While it's not likely I'll ever neeeeeeed those things in the course of my daily life, I'm not throwing them out. Call me a hoarder if you must, but sentiment is BIG with me and whatever is hiding in those heretofore unpacked boxes could be nostaglia gold. I'm unfortunately more likely to unwittingly throw away something like mortgage papers than a relative's high school diploma. Sad, but true. Lucky, lucky Husband.
Aside from unopened boxes, what did I find? Well, a cobweb. In my face. That was good. Also? In a box filled with empty CD cases and pots and pans (totally logical box mates, yes?), I found boxes of pasta and canned tomatoes. Oh, and soup. Like maybe we went to Costco right before we moved last year? You know, so that we'd have food to start out with in California? Thinking, I don't know, they didn't have food here?!!! (I suppose that's plausible given the freakishly skinny women who tend to live here) I have no idea. For whatever reason, there's a box with empty CD cases, pots, pans and pasta. Also in the garage I unearthed about five boxes that I just can't describe any further than..."Husband". Wires, computer pieces, extension cords, battery packs, remotes, I have no idea. It's all very scary in those boxes.
So, lesson learned. Me of August 10, 2009 has sufficiently chewed out me of June 23, 2008 and when we arrive in whatever house we decide on in the Bay Area, you can be sure that you'll be reading a post about how I unpacked every last freaking box, even if I have gone stark raving mad in the process. Which? Let's be honest. Is pretty likely.