Friday, August 28, 2009

Treasures

I used to have a whole bunch of boxes of stuff at my parents' house. I didn't think there was actually that much stuff until I started going through it all. And then I remembered that I'm not so much a packrat as I am a packracoon (or whatever the HIGHER AMOUNT word for 'packrat' is).

Three days, two Annie viewings, and many stumbling around tripping over crap shin-bruises later, I have three well organized and stowed away plastic bins at my parents' house (two containing my little glass figurine collection and one containing Madame Alexander dolls), one doll trunk of doll clothes, and one Madame Alexander doll stored in her Madame Alexander box... plus some pajamas and bathing suits (because I figure those are things that people are likely to both need and forget to bring). Okay, and a bunch of books and now this list is getting too long because the POINT is that there is LESS stuff than there WAS but I feel like that is not coming across so much anymore.

I also have a packed-to-the-gills car full of boxes. And this would stress me out, except that I actually cleaned my apartment awhile back and I haven't really been back long enough to mess it up yet so I'm choosing to see it as though I would be starting a whole new organizing project by unpacking the boxes and won't that be interesting and fun? So every time I go somewhere, I bring up a box or two from the car. No pressure on myself to unload the WHOLE CAR RIGHT NOW, just bring up a box or two if I have the time and energy.

The exception to this is that the moment I got home, before I even settled my cat back into his environment or put away food or set up my computer or hopped in the shower for the first time in four days, I HAD to bring up two specific little plastic boxes. They contained my precious, precious treasures that couldn't spend a moment longer in the car because what if the car got broken into? What if someone injured or STOLE them? I just found these items again, I would be devastated if I lost them. I would be crushed. It's too horrible to even think about.

I am speaking, of course, about my dollhouse furniture.