| | Before: After:
 
(Don't expect me in Home & Garden magazine - Englewood, NJ)
I'm an incredibly independent person. My mom came over yesterday to help me pack up my apartment to make the big move.
The morning was filled with, "What's this?" and "What's this?" and "What's this?".
"Go home," I told my mom.
Packing in general is a rather chaotic experience, organizing things into boxes, figuring out what goes where. The past two weeks have been extremely stressful so my patience was cut short with my temper under a constant simmer on the burner. I couldn't stand to answer another question and yet another Korean mom statement. It's easier and a lot less complicated if I do things myself.
She surveyed the room, "Oh it looks like you're almost done. You just need to throw out the garbage you haven't done yet."
"That's not garbage," I said.
If it were up to my mother, she'd throw out EVERYTHING I own because she considers it rubbish. Everything I own is garbage to her. Granted I do have a lot of random odds and ends. What my mom doesn't understand is they all serve a certain purpose I can't explain in Korean. I have to carefully look over everything to determine if something is chuckable or not. To my mother, this is time consuming. She'd gather everything up, dump it into a black Hefty bag and call it a day. *brushes hands*
I have what people call an organized mess: a stack of foreign currency, a pile of bills I've paid and yet to file away, a crochet project I started, letter to Sebastian, membership savings cards from Borders, Aveda, Stop & Shop, Shop Rite, Aerie. My desk is a disaster area but I know exactly where everything is. The problem begins after I clean and I can't remember where I put things.
After I let my mom pack up the kitchen and left, I turned up my music and continued packing. |
| | Posted 9/14/2008 7:00 PM - 30 Views - 6 eProps - 5 comments
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