As packing comes to its inevitable conclusion I am leaning towards the radical thought of not unpacking anything. Nothing. Everything stays in the boxes. Why would I be leaning towards this type of radicalism? Because…
- I packed all of the boxes
- I do not want to see my work undone by people who only care about what is inside the box like some kid (there are two kids) after the toy prize in a box of cereal; I would’ve have said box of Cracker Jacks, but the “toy prize” in Cracker Jacks SUCKS
- I have grown accustomed to the boxes acting as furniture, path direction throughout the house, decorations, and am rather enjoying not having anything on the walls
- I don’t want to have to pack ever again
- I have lived without much of our stuff for closing in on 100 days, why do any of us need to see it now
- I enjoy knowing that everything is now “new in box” and thus collectable
- I enjoy the mental challenge of figuring out how I could build all of the furniture out of boxes. This could be problematic with some of the softer boxes, but given the amount of boxes, I am positive that any construction flaws will be overcome with the clever rearrangement of boxes
- Boxes do not need to be cleaned and can be written on, providing me with an entire home of writing surfaces. Why writers have not thought of this before I will never know
- While I enjoy the surprise and excitement of unpacking as much as the next person, as I sit here typing on a box of yarn-I upgrade my writing desk from a box of bento boxes to a paper box full of yarn-I cannot imagine another way to live
Radical packing and unpacking thoughts aside, my day has been tinged by a somewhat sleepless night. Throughout the night I woke from a dream where the Spectrum cable jingle played, I understand that anyone outside of this area will not be familiar with the jingle and I do not want you to become familiar with the jingle, so try to imagine a cheery cable commercial with a man beat boxing and a lot of auto-tune.
Use that as the background music for whatever dreams you are having and you can see why I kept waking up. No bad dreams, just dreams continually interrupted by that damn jingle. It is possible that someone broke through my box fort…Boxtopolis…to play that damn jingle each time I hit REM sleep or whatever phase of sleeping includes dreaming and allows annoying jingles to penetrate the conscious mind. Hopefully while packing up the remnants of the house I find them and Clockwork Orange them for a few days to that damn jingle.
Boxtopolis laws will be fair and mostly unjust because I am the ruler. You want to lead, you pack your own Boxtopolis, until then the rule of the packed box stands; fit what you can in a box, tape it closed, label it, and then pick it up. If the box holds, you are in the right; if the box fails, you are in the wrong.