Boxes

So I didn't blog on Sunday.  I didn't write on Sunday.  I didn't do anything with a computer or internet on Sunday.  I moved.  Actually, I've been moving since Friday night.  And I'm still unpacking.  And without home internet.  But I am blogging today! And soon I'll have photos up of all the moving fun.  Okay, I'll have a picture of boxes.  Close enough.

There were boxes everywhere.  There were boxes on the dining room table. There were boxes on the couch and the recliner.  That didn't matter, though, because there were too many boxes on the floor to be able to walk to the couch or the recliner.  The hallway had a teeny, tiny, skinny little path so that the bathroom (with a bathtub full of boxes) was sort of accessible.  The smell of cardboard overpowered the smell of Lysol and carpet cleaner that had filled the apartment when it was empty.  The boxes gave the rooms a uniform, institutional sort of feeling.  The worst part, though, was that the boxes were full.  And needed to be emptied.

Sara grimaced as she stared at the scene.  Perhaps moving to a smaller apartment was a bad idea.