The sensible thing would have been to buy, say, 40 or 50 strong cardboard boxes. All the same size. Preferably with little cut-out handles. Then I would have taken my time and sorted through my worldly goods and packed the stuff worth packing. All of it, all at once. Then I would have hired a van, loaded the boxes into it, and they would all have fitted neatly because they would all have been the same size. And then I would have driven down to my new apartment, unloaded the boxes, returned the van and unloaded the stuff in the boxes into awaiting furniture.
That's what I should have done.
Instead, my life -- contained in an assortment of cardboard boxes, plastic bags, crates, suitcases and nothing in particular -- is cluttering the floor of what may or may not turn out to be the spare bedroom. There's no furniture to unpack it into. No lights in most of the rooms. But a whole world of possibilities.
(By the way, what's going on here is that I wrote a bunch of posts but have not had access for over a week. So, now that I do, I'll dribble them out over the next day or two. And hope to get back into more regular posting.)