MOST of the boxes are opened... well, the ones in the house anyway. And there's a graveyard of flattened boxes in the dining room. But the house is not clean. Nor ready to show. Nope. Although the boxes are opened and emptied, the stuff is not put away.
The stuff. Ah, the stuff. It's everywhere. And we are past the stage of just staring at boxes and wondering what's in them... we are at the stage of staring at stuff and wondering where it all will go.
Actually, we are at the stage of trying to put things away. Our floor is barely visible with all the stuff on it and as I pass by some stuff, I reach down, pick it up and put it away.
Sounds easy, right? Except there is SO MUCH STUFF! So, I figure, with careful calculations... I figure that I ought to have everything put away in, oh, say, five years?
That's the stage I'm am... walking stuff to its place.
And I don't walk fast.
And besides, we have TV now. And internet.
And after a long walk to put 'stuff' away... I need a break.
'Stuff' is just not as important as it thinks it is.
'Stuff' is like that, you know.
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