I am the Anti-Hoarder

Lately, I've found myself doing a lot of laundry.  And dish washing.  And other remedial tasks.  Familiar tasks.

Because moving has made my world unfamiliar.  I find myself almost paralyzed with the amount of work that needs to be done.  

 (This is my desk -- from whence I am attempting to blog...)

Don't get me wrong.  I am not afraid to work.  To work hard.  I enjoy sorting and organizing.  I actually think I have the absolute opposite of whatever disorder effects people with the desire to hoard things.  "A place for everything and everything in its place,"  and all that.  Usually.  

I'm not sure why this moving/unpacking/settling in has been so hard.  Because we haven't done this in almost 8 years?  Because we now have two little people, with all their stuff, and all their emotions, running around?  Because I miss my friends?  Because?  Because?  Because?

I'm not sure.  I just know that I have to start on one box.  And then move on to the next.  And the next.  And the next.

And when that becomes too much, we take a break...

... we keep doing this...

...and head to the beach, the park, or the pool...