Over the past few months I have been slowly accumulating boxes from the kitchen at Mini U, the school I work at. This slow accumulation has resulted in our guest room looking like the back mail room at a post office or something. Boxes from floor to ceiling, totally covering the guest bed, blocking any sort of light that would be coming in from the window since their piled in front of that, too; the boxes made it nearly impossible to open the closet door, or the bedroom door for that matter.
The funny thing is, since I was getting the boxes from the kitchen at work, and they were getting the boxes from GFS, we will be packing our life into boxes labeled: Broccoli Spears, Translucent Plastic Dinner Wear, Mandarin Orange Segments, Cheese Filled Soft Pretzel Sticks, and my personal favorite, Colossal Crinkle Cut Frozen Potatoes.
I spent about 15 minutes throwing boxes down the stairs while Dave organized them by size, in the garage. Throwing boxes down stairs...actually, throwing anything anywhere is pretty fabulous, and a great de-stresser. I recommend it. Now our guest room is prepped and ready for Dave's parents who will be here on Thursday, and our garage is now the most flammable room in the house.