I was about to leave the apartment to take stuff to my car and make a Target run, when I thought about leaving a light on. I went to turn the light over the stove on which apparently doesn’t work now. So I just made a mental note to turn the light on by the door to make sure I don’t trip over any of our stuff when I walk back in. As I walked to the door in the dark with my hands full of bags and a to-go cup of coffee, while thinking about not tripping when I get back home, I hit the Christmas tree box, AGAIN as I mentioned the first time in my last post Packing is Pitiful. I tried to recover which resulted in me falling to my knees on top of the box and completely skinning my shins, and now I have two matching bumps and bruises and I have to wear a dress tomorrow… great. Just another day at Tragic Girl Headquarters. Ouch.
Packing is probably one of the most pitiful acts to partake in. Aside from being absolutely awful, you have to sit there going through your own things and reassuring yourself over and over again that you are not a hoarder. You end up with a million trash bags of things you do not know why you kept. Things like, oh I don’t know, an accordion file stuffed with papers and assignments from school that you thought maybe you should keep but haven’t even opened it since you stopped going to grad school anyways, and your reason for taking all the horrible classes you did are stuffed inside that little dollar section accordion file, sitting and collecting dust as a constant reminder of being a failure at life! Not that I have experienced that, what gave you that impression? But if I did then that accordion file would be in the trash, even if it is pink! (Okay Britt, remember, calm, cool, and collected).
Anyways, as I was saying, packing sucks. The worst part for me has been the clothes. As I mentioned in my previous post, Parting with Clothes, I was having trouble getting rid of some. I explained how clothes are a part of you, so you have to get rid of old pieces when you are ready and that old part of yourself is ready to be let go of, and embrace your new self. But honestly I have a problem, one single human being should not be allowed to have this many clothes. It is a girls dream really, only to be made into your worst nightmare by a dinky sized closet. Well it is a normal sized closet, but it might as well be for a peasant for everything I need to stuff in there. It isn’t my fault! I blame working in retail for eight years. After days of organizing, multiple loads of laundry, a war between emotions for personified clothes and sane, rational thinking, and an oversized and overflowing donation box, I conquered the biggest challenge known to women, packing the closet. What relief I felt to be done.
Another thing to add to the list of why packing is the pits is how boxes and stuff is just everywhere. I practically killed myself walking into our apartment with my hands full, causing me to not be able to take my sunglasses off until I put the stuff down in the kitchen, resulting in me tripping over our Christmas tree box because I couldn’t see it.
Out of everything tragic that has gone along with my roomie and I packing, nothing can beat last night. It is our last few days in the apartment, I guess we had to have one more tragic event at Tragic Girl Headquarters to see us off. We started off living together with every intent to recycle and save the money to put towards a trip that we never planned anyways. Well we had a pretty big bag of recycling going, but never had the same day off of work to take it to turn in together. Eventually it was just in the way so we put it on the patio. As time went on it just became part of the patio so we didn’t bother with it. Being now that we have until Tuesday, yesterday we decided to clean the patio.
We started first with the few weeds that started growing around the edge. One got so tall so fast that it required both of us to pull it out. After our small weed garden was uprooted, it was time for the recycling.
The bag was out there for so long it was broken. I was convinced some wild animal was on our porch and broke through it, but in reality the bag was brittle from the sun. We thought we could just push that bag into a new trash bag, pull the strings and be done with it, but no. Bottles and cans were falling out and rolling around. We didn’t want to touch anything because we were pretty certain that there were spiders and God knows what inside this bag. Attempting to use the broom as a shovel seemed like our only plan. As my roomie and I struggled to play hockey with recycling and get the items in a new bag untouched, our other friend was over visiting, observing from the safety behind the screen door. As I am holding the broom and my roomie is holding the bag, our observer throws out that there is a spider on the bottom of the broom. I instantly drop it and we back up. As the bottom of the broom bounces up we see it. This is probably one of the biggest spiders I have seen in person and we were both struck with fear and screamed. My roomie jumps onto the only chair on the patio, then hops the wall to get away. I get on the chair ready to follow her when our friend said she is pretty sure it is dead. Still, dead or not, I did not want to be trapped on the patio with it. With a closer look, still behind the safety of the screen, our friend starts cracking up and says that the spider is a fake one that comes with the Halloween webs! We all start dying laughing, and I was so relived. If that would have been a real spider I was moving out yesterday. We didn’t even have any of those fake spiders on Halloween, but our neighbors above us did. After we calmed down, my roomie knocked on the front door to get let back in because the door was locked. This had to have been one of the most pathetic displays of girls ever. We were too scared still to take the fake spider off the end of the broom so every time we caught a glimpse of it while sweeping we jumped and flinched, forgetting about it each time.
After what took forever, requiring us to cut two other trash bags so that we could lay them flat and burrito the old broken bag into them and then shimmy the burrito bundle into a third bag, we threw the sucker away. Mission accomplished. If you were unaware, my roomie and I have had quite a few encounters with spiders, all tragic. Here is a flashback to our second encounter caught on tape in one of my early posts OMG More Spiders!
We only have a little more to pack and Tragic Girl Headquarters will be officially moving. Stay tuned!
Currently I am in the middle of packing up my apartment, which is the absolute worst. What makes packing the worst is the clothes. Not only do you have to make sure you get ALL of your laundry done, but you have to actually go through your clothes. If anyone knows me, they know that my closet is stuffed to overflowing, and that going through all of my clothes could take days. Today was good though, I actually got all of my laundry done, and I am currently taking a break from packing up all of the clothes in my dresser. Looking at my piles of clothes all over the floor, and the wet clothes hanging up to dry in my bedroom doorway, the bathroom doorway, and across my shower rod, I started thinking about how I need to get rid of some of these. My roomie and I have a huge box in the living room that is the donation box, and of course it is already overflowing. Looking at my clothes again though got me thinking, why is it so hard to get rid of some of my clothes when I have a ridiculous amount? I don’t even wear half of them most times.
When you work in retail for as long as I did, and become such a lover of clothes and style, every piece that you own is a part of you. Getting rid of clothes is like giving away a piece of yourself. Clothing is not only something that we wear, it is also an art, a way that we express ourselves. Your closet is like a place that you store your moods and attitudes. Different outfits you put together can dictate how you feel and your confidence level. You can feel like being invisible or feel like you are going to take on the world. Style has no limitations.
Just like how we change, so does our style. When you go through your closet and see things that you instantly know you can get rid of, it is because you have changed and you are getting rid of your old self to make room for your new self. When you cant find anything in your closet to get rid of, or can’t bring yourself to, I am starting to think that we shouldn’t force ourselves to. We may be prematurely forcing our old self away for a new self that isn’t ready. I feel like I am in this in-between stage right now. I am now in a professional job however, we don’t have to wear super professional clothes. This doesn’t mean that all of my old clothes are appropriate though. My last job was in retail and I was allowed and encouraged to wear crop tops and cut off shorts. Although I dress nice and casual for work, I cannot be wearing my old clothes. Does this mean I am not ready to fully leave my old self behind in exchange for this new self that is completely immersed in adult life?
I think something else that makes it hard to get rid of clothes is that in a way, we personify them. Each item hanging in our closet represents a memory, and also hangs in anticipation of being part of a new memory. This makes it hard to let go of things, as if getting rid of a certain top means you are getting rid of the memory and event that is hooked to it. Sometimes though we come to terms with it. Last week I was looking through clothes and almost got rid of a top, but couldn’t bring myself to do it. Today I felt differently, and got rid of that top, plus three more. I think I am coming to terms more with my new self. Although I am getting rid of pieces of my old self, I am constantly looking at and getting pieces of my new self.
Style and fashion will always be changing, just like ourselves, sometimes it is okay though to keep some of the old and turn it into something new. You don’t have to leave all of yourself behind.
I’m spending my Friday night packing, painting my nails while watching Sex and the City 1, and currently kicking some kid’s butt at Harry Potter on the Quiz Up app. Don’t bother me after 10:30 PM, I’ll be in bed already. I know, I know, I’m a wild one. If you want a challenge play me on Quiz Up… Be there or be square… Or maybe be there and be a square because only squares spend their Friday nights like I do.
Dear Heather (aka Roomie),
I cannot believe that it has been a year since we started off on this adventure together. Remember when this was all just talk a couple of years ago? You and I talking all the time on the sales floor about all the ways we were going to decorate when we finally got a place. Then looking for a place, how hard was that? I would have never thought we would have had to look at so many apartments before we found ours. Then we found the one. We moved in and both realized that we had way too much stuff, and remember all those decorating plans? How well did those go? Decorating is expensive and so is everything else. We learned though didn’t we? Now we can budget, check the air in our own tires, and cook… kind of.
But this letter isn’t to tell you all of the things that you already know that we have gone through together. This letter is for you. The moment I saw the #girlstrong shirts I knew what I wanted to do. We are supposed to write about who makes us strong and I wanted to write about you. Heather you’re one of the people who makes me strong. You understand me so well, mostly because of the fact that we have had some very similar experiences. So similar it is almost unbelievable, but because of that, you have helped me get through them. I know I can talk to you about anything, you have such a great ear. When I say anything, I literally mean anything. I can tell you the craziest things, and I have, and you wont judge me. We have had some pretty interesting conversations that end with us laughing and feeling like crazy people.
Heather you are such an amazing person with an amazing heart. I want you to always know that. You are such a great friend, and not just to me, but to all of our friends. You listen and give whole heartedly. You always know what to say in just about any situation, or you know exactly what questions to ask. I could not have asked for a better roommate. I would not trade this experience for anything. No matter where we go from here, you will always be my Roomie. I love you so much. Thank you for everything.
Love always, your Roomie,
We got these fabulous shirts from Shabby Apple, which we found on Instagram. In their post they said they wanted to celebrate the strength in all women so they created the #GIRLSTRONG, and for every post sharing who inspires you to be strong with the #GIRLSTRONG, they will be donating 10 cents to the Elizabeth Smart Foundation.