Ha! I came across this on Facebook the other day. Hopefully the author will forgive me if I leave it unattributed to protect her privacy. We pack out at the end of June. So I think I can safely say I’m approaching Stage 2.

Stage 1 Denial: We’ve got 7 months until packout. TRA LA LA LA.

Stage 2 Anger: We are never buying anything ever again. Do you REALLY need to keep those socks from 9th grade?! They are missing three toes!

Stage 3 Bargaining: Okay, if you haul all the consummables crap from the car, I will go through and sort the clothes to get rid of. Please, not another Costco trip, please. Dear God, I beg of you. We don’t need shampoo! Who uses shampoo these days, I mean, really? We can just go au natural.

Stage 4 Depression: The movers are coming tomorrow and our UAB and HHE is still not fully sorted. Pretty sure we just guaranteed ourselves a miserable life.

Stage 5 Acceptance: The movers are here. There is nothing else we can do, time has run out. Bring the wine and anchor down beside me on the couch. We might never see all this crap again, but really, who cares? Mmm…wine.

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