Packing it in

I have spent the past couple of days trying to fit the contents of my life into bags and boxes and suitcases.

I’ve never really been one to compartmentalize things; my jewelry exists in various places, sharing space with my toiletries, my hair doo-dads, and other bits that tend to accumulate on horizontal surfaces. I’ve had jewelry boxes before. I even have one now. It’s got a place to live, I’m just never any good at putting it back there after I’ve used it.

So, I’ve been scraping corners and sifting the contents of closets and table tops and tote bags. I’ve been packing all my yarn into space bags, sucking out the air and compacting them so they’ll fit in my ginormous suitcase. I’ve been sorting through my books, deciding which books are postage-rate worthy and which I’ll be ok with not shipping across the ocean and half a continent.

I’ve planned out which projects I’ll take on the plane, and which to pack away in the suitcases (Bringing a lace wrap to work on if they don’t confiscate my knitting needles at security, and some crochet to work on if they do).

I’ve been taking the opportunity to prune out clothes that don’t fit or are worn out. I’m throwing out toiletries that I don’t use and wont. Even with all of this, I’ve run out of bags and boxes to pack my things into. I’m not even taking household items; only my hobby bits, clothes, shoes, books, and toiletries/makeup. Still somehow need to pack my coats in something. I may have to use the gigantic box that the Beatle’s Rock Band stuff came in.

Part of me just feels like leaving it all; after it’s only stuff. The most important bits of my life are waiting for me at home, and I could never find a suitcase big enough to take them with me.