Attack of the Fuzzy Comforter Monster

I "officially" moved into my parents house at the end of April when my lease expired. It took me weeks to move everything from the apartment to the house or my 10x10* storage unit. For someone who had moved, what? 9 times since I graduated college (including the move back to Dallas, for which I did not start packing until 2 days before, I kid you not), you would think I would have gotten the hang of it by now. I couldn't really tell you why I dragged my feet so badly this time...some combination of actually being able to take my time (a luxury) and just having so much stufff and ohmygodwhereamIgoingtoputallthisSTUFF?!

So yeah, weeks of packing and moving. Unpacking? About that...

I still have shit stacked all over the place. In my defense, I have unpacked the majority of it. If by unpacked you mean shoved in drawers and on shelves and oh yeah! I need a closet about twice the size of this one! Moving a whole apartment into one bedroom? Shit don't fit. And then there's the bathroom...

One of the more ridiculous results of marrying my apartment with my new bedroom at my parents' house is that I now sleep on the comforter from my old bed folded in half like a sleeping bag on top of all of the bedding on the guest bed. Why? Because I like it better. Because the pretty bedding Mom has on the bed no one ever used to sleep in? It's itchy. And it makes these little white fuzz balls that I end up eating/snorting any time I actually attempt to sleep under it. Also, the kitties like it better. We feel more at home in our old comforter, thank you very much.

One of the hardest things about this whole process has been that I don't really have my own space anymore. When my brother and I left, my parents made quick work of removing/storing everything that once belonged to us. Which, hey, who could've guessed that their very successful 18 year old college student would ever need to move back home? I get it. But yeah, just cause it's stuffed full of my shit...doesn't make it mine. Maybe that's why I can't seem to get motivated about finishing the unpacking...because I'm just trying to make my life fit in their space.

I used to say in college, home is wherever I'm not. If I'm in Austin, home is Dallas. If I'm in Dallas, home is Austin. I think the idea still stands. I miss home.

*Yes, a 10x10 storage unit and I still can't fit all of my stuff. My couches? They're HUGE. Two couches + washer/dryer + dresser = full storage unit.