Ketchup already

I'm at work on a Saturday — for the first time ever, wah! — to move offices. It's much easier to move when you wear shorts and comfortable shoes. Plus I can make lots of noise and wander back and forth without irritating Jane and Kelsey.

So why am I not shuttling stuff to my new office right now? Well. I've gotten most of it done, but I've grown tired. Repinning stuff from the bulletin boards is mentally exhausting. (So is realizing that I have two framed photos of Ginger and none of Papaya.)

It's humbling to relocate, to confront the harsh reality of a decade's worth of habits. Take, for example, the top drawer — prime desk real estate. Unfortunately mine became a wasteland of things I thought I needed and forgot I had.

I am a ketchup hoarder.

Which is weird, because I don't use a lot of it. Maybe that's why some of the packets were oddly bloated; the time in my office did them no favors.

Apparently I also liked plastic rulers (about seven of them). And a lipstick I bought in Japan eight years ago, which was almost gone and never got used anyway because I kept other lipstick stubs for makeup emergencies.

But this move has taught me a lot. Like: Sunscreen belongs in a drawer, not on the desk. As well as: It's tough to corral paper clips. And: Rubber bands eventually get brittle and break.

This is a tiring day. But I'm pacing myself by eating stuff from Jane's snack drawer: honey mustard pretzels and half a sleeve of Girl Scout cookies. It's all good, right? I mean, they are going to expire next month and no one wants stale shortbread.

Now it's time to get back to work. Jane, you're right about the change of perspective. I just didn't realize it would start with the process of moving.