all the stuff.

From the looks of the place, you'd think we were starting a fruit stand.

That's from the boxes, of course, the many boxes stamped "Dole Bananas" obtained from the very nice lady in the produce department of Lowe's Foods. Mixed in with the banana boxes are boxes for hair products (Haircut 101), knives (Army/Navy Surplus), and lawnmowers (Lowe's Hardware). So either we're running a very bizarre kind of store here, or we're moving.

I guess you know the correct answer.

I'd forgotten how discouraging moving is. You pack and pack, pulling things off shelves and out of drawers, and the room doesn't look any different. It's like you didn't do a thing until that furniture is out. And so even though my room looks pretty much the same as it did before, I swear I've already taken carloads of stuff away.

Carloads. I have way too much stuff.

I don't even know what I have. We sorted out the kitchen stuff today, and held up pot after pan after plate, asking each other, "Is this yours?" Today I realized that I had three extra plates and two extra bowls that I didn't know were mine. (Incidently, I had been breaking the Tenth Commandment by coveting my roommate's plates for the past year, not realizing the whole time that they had been given to me by said roommate.) I found pots I hadn't seen since I bought them (or in some cases, found them in the dumpster). It was like Christmas in a year that Santa felt like emphasizing the domestic arts. We actually found an old George Foreman grill that we think belongs to Anna, whom we haven't lived with in two years.

I don't actually move for another week and a half. So I have the dilemma of trying to pack things that I won't need during the next week and a half. I shuttled over half my clothes, mostly winter things, and prayed that the Boone forecast would at least try to obey the seasons. I cleaned out my desk today. The only thing left in it are: one Sharpie, one pencil, one pen, a roll of tape, and a pair of scissors. I'll be living the minimalist life until next Wednesday.

Some stuff will never make it to the new place. The green couch has served me well, but it's time to move on to furniture without scratch marks all over it. Several white blouses held over from my waitressing days will go back into the thrift store cycle of life. A few things will move into a new apartment, but it'll be Ashley's or Krystal's instead of mine.

I'm not sure how I got so much stuff. That's a lie, I know exactly how. I got so much stuff by being the youngest of six children, by having five older siblings who are generous with the hand-me-downs. I got so much stuff by going to yard sales and thrift stores and seeing how little of my money would buy a thing that I didn't exactly need. I got so much stuff by never knowing when to let something go. So much stuff.

But it's okay. Because now I have more space, more places to put all this stuff. I have a brand new empty space to make mine by adorning it with my things until it screams "SANDRA!"

And scream it will.