The seven stages of packing

1. Shock and denial

Holy crap we own way too much stuff. Let's burn half of it and give the other half to the Salvation Army. Our new apartment has such nice carpet that we don't need clothes or bedding anyway! Okay, maybe some sandals, and a towel for the shower. But that's it! We'll gather the other things we need from dumpsters!

2. Pain and guilt

Do NOT try to move that couch. My back is killing me. Damn, we're going to have to hire movers. But for one couch? Is that affordable? How much could movers possibly be? [Stop. Google time.] Okay, how many friends owe us favors? None? Why don't we ever do nice things for people? Can we still bribe someone into moving this couch? Why did we buy this? It took a year to pay off, and now it's the only thing we own that weighs more than a blender, and I don't have time to go through a fitness regimen just so I can lift one corner of it -- did it have to be a sectional? -- and, oh, crap, just pay the movers.

3. Anger and bargaining

I'll throw out my comic books if you throw out your shoes!

4. Depression, reflection, loneliness

We had three weekends with nothing booked and we spent them watching "Parenthood" reruns instead of throwing DVDs into a box. We kept every single birthday card and Christmas card from the past two years and we're just going to throw them out now? Feels like we're throwing away our friends. The ones we aren't nice enough to in order to get moving help so we have to do all this by ourselves.

5. The upward turn

Three people with pickup trucks are going to come!

6. Reconstruction and working through

Hey, if people are going to help, maybe we should actually tape the tops of the boxes closed. And look! The wrapping paper fits in your yoga mat bag! I think we can ditch the six clipboards we bought for some kind of impressive resume kit, but let's keep all those pens. Ziploc bags to the rescue!

7. Acceptance and hope

Yes, it makes sense to drag this broken computer across town. Maybe the electrical outlets in the new place will magically bring it back to life? It just needs a different flavor of electricity? Yeah, that's probably it: throw in the broken printer, too. You never know -- all those speed bumps might realign the cartridge. Broken headphones? I can hear the ocean in them. Back issues of the Austin Chronicle? Extremely valuable data for future archaeologists -- seal 'em in that liquor box. Yessir, this is all going to fit just fine in our new, smaller place, you'll see.

Next week: The 12 steps of Hoarders Anonymous