Tuesday, August 26, 2014

Letters Part 1

Dear every-inanimate-object-currently-occupying-space-in-my-living-quarters,

You seriously need to get up and hop neatly into the nearest cardboard moving box,
you know,
at your earliest conveinece...
No rush or anything,
it's not like we're moving in a few days or anything............
Seriously, I'm tired of picking each of you up and putting you delicately in neatly packed box, only to remove you shortly after, but in our new space, in our new home...

If you don't wish to be left behind, I highly suggest you get-to-steppin' and choose one of the several available boxes to make your temporary residence, until we arrive at the new place.
You all just sit there, smugly, taunting me, increasing the sinking realization that moving day is loomingly creeping closer, and almost upon us...
aaand I have to box you up, only to unbox your butts shortly after, but in our new surroundings.

This whole moving process is stressful enough...apparently 2nd most stressful to mourning death...
There is so much heavy anxiety ominously weighin down on this whole idea and actual process of moving house, I can barely stand it... everything has changed... it's incredibly daunting to have to even think about how soon we will be living in a strange new building, with new unknown people around us, unknown personalities, in a whole new neighborhood, with unknown sounds, smells, and God knows what else we will have to adjust to...

It's terrifying, and is going to send us to the poorhouse.

I didn't choose the Pleb Life, 
the Pleb life chose me.

Frankly, you're all pissing me off, objects-that-I-apparently-deemed-necessary-at-one-point-or-another-but-now-seem-materialistically-obnoxious-and-makes-me-question-how-many-of-you-are-truly-a-necessity-and-which-of-you-will-be-excommunicated-from-our-new-home.

Yup, you heard me.

Some of you simply will not be making the cut.

Some of you will successfully transition with us into our completely gutted & renovated home, ensuring that we are the first humans to live in the new space, but need I remind y'alls it will be with just some of you, but not all of you.
Some of you will be sold, or simply donated and given to a new home.

Don't take our interpretation of your sudden uselessness to us, we have been brainwashed into believing we "need" all of you and more of your kind is : more stuffz=moar happinessez.

So yeah, objects... Ship up, or ship out.

Get yourselves packed up in your favorite empty box, awaiting to be filled with your useful selves, or GTFO, because I am sick & tired of having to pick you up again & again and transport you.

Get it together, in a neat and orderly fashion, or cease to exist in our company any further, you bunch of freeloaders....

....aaaand it's 4:15am & I'm writing to inanimate objects.
Moving sucks.

Your mom.

{omg this insomnia is making me delirious}

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