So is it weird and wrong that I'm ENJOYING packing? Because I love it. I'm also doing an obligatory "get rid of the crap I haven't used since I moved in" so that I don't carry useless shit to the new apartment (which also means clothes, though I could certainly afford to get rid of more clothes--I refuse). As far as packing, my closet is nearly empty, 2/4 cabinets are empty, my medicine cabinet is empty, 7/8 drawers are empty, and my cookbook shelf is all packed up.
I've learned that I need to keep track of the food I buy (I had 3 packages of Hormel pepperoni chilling out in my cabinet) and I need to plan to use what I buy instead of buying just "because". I'm hoping that with a group food bill with my new roommates, food will get eaten up. Such as--I buy a bag of chips and they last me FOREVER. Same with cookies, oatmeal, granola bars, 100 calorie packs, crackers, and candy. Hopefully my roommates will eat the stuff I never seem to finish (one of my roommates is a huge eater and claims he has multiple stomachs, ha!).
I'm a little annoyed that I have to wait till mid-September to move to the new place because by the time we move in, I won't remember what's in each box. I'm trying to combat that by Sharpie-ing the major contents of each one on the outside. It's nice that we have a storage unit, I can pack stuff and move it out so that I have room to pack the next round of boxes.
Basically, moving is thrilling the crap out of me. I can't wait to arrange my stuff in the new place. WHY AM I SO WEIRD?!
(For the first time in a really long time, my comforter and sheets will MATCH. That hasn't happened since I was little!)