We're moving my Better Half into my house.
Although he's been "living" here for ages now, he still had his old apartment downtown. It seemed to make sense at the time, but eventually we realized that we were using his apartment for storage instead of sleeping. A light turned on inside our wee brains. We probably didn't need to be paying double rent! A brilliant conclusion, minus one drawback.
We now have to move all his stuff into my place. Before we leave for our trip. And I have to give up a closet. Yes, I know, boo hoo. But any of you who have moved house know how hard it can be to find space when you've been following an unwritten pack-rat rule. I feel like I am always getting rid of things, and yet fitting my sprawling wardrobe into one closet is a trial. It defeats the rules of science. Clothes appear out of nowhere. Things shouldn't be able to defeat science if they mess up my closet. Someone should investigate. Preferably someone who passed/remembers high school science.
At any rate, the move has been interesting. We were unsure what to do with the extra mattress, so we put it under our current one. I think I will need a stool to climb into bed. It's really quite funny.
And other potentially awkward objects have surfaced. A didgeridoo. A snowboard. A poster of Arnold Schwarzenegger when he was still a bodybuilder. I am unsure what to do with such things.
I will hide them under our massive bed, to start. I may burn the poster.