1) When we first talked about selling our tiny castle, I daydreamed about papering the house with post-it notes urging kind thoughts from the seller regarding the various quirks of a dearly beloved space. Like a note to the teacher of a child being sent off for a first day of kindergarten, I wanted to make sure no one misunderstood the charming idiosyncrasies to be annoying vices. As escrow drags on, I've come to suspect that no one could love this place as much as we have. With the help of the kids, the house has been worn until it has become real. The buyer will think it needs new paint and carpet, we know better. Maybe tonight while we sleep the magic nursery fairy will come and turn our tiny house into a real castle.
|If only all our boxes packed themselves.|
|Oh, wait. They all do self-pack.|
3) Packing tips online suggest not combining items from multiple rooms in one box. Done. So easy.
4) We still aren't sure where we will find ourselves unpacking our boxes two months from now. One thing we've agreed on, though: We need at least one interior door besides the one on the bathroom. We could probably even benefit from having two additional interior doors. But what on earth would we do with three?
5) I've noticed a spike in my attention to small details in inconsequential matters. Hundreds (maybe even thousands?) of times I've walked through this door with the porthole window. Yesterday, the screws in the frame appeared unforgivably non-square. I suspect that perhaps in this situation where I have increased adrenaline for figuring out All The Things yet so little ability to actually solve any questions regarding inconsequential things like housing, kids' schooling, maternity care, etc., that the adrenaline must be focused elsewhere. Whether a symptom of CDO (you know, similar to OCD only the letters are in the right order) or the Type B in me trying to bring it up to an A-, believe me, you'll thank me later.
|Aren't the off-center screws on the port-hole so obnoxious?|
(Photo Credit for door photo: MAJ)