Packing has begun in earnest. Except it feels like we didn't do much. Or that I didn't do much. 

My mom has packed a bunch of boxes from the kitchen. I packed a box of random toys and games from one of my closets. My dad has packed a variety of tools into a plastic cabinet. We've sorted out some ancient medicine to discard of. We've taped a bunch of lawn tools together. We've also taken a couple of shelving units apart and gotten them tied together so they can be moved. 

I have managed to do a number of necessary chores that aren't directly related to moving. I've reserved a hotel room -- my stuff will be in the moving truck on Tuesday morning, but I won't be signing the final paperwork for the house until Wednesday, so I'll need to stay an extra day in Denton to do that. I've also made arrangements to cancel my Internet service and utilities, and I've talked to a local insurance professional about getting health insurance in the Panhandle. These are needed, of course, but you don't feel like you're doing anything important when you're talking to someone on the phone. 

We still need to pack clothing, bedding, electronics, medicine and cosmetic items, pictures and wall art, and food. We need to take the computer apart and pack it in one of the cars. We need to find a place to put all the many small, odd-shaped, or delicate items. The giant metal skull won't fit in any boxes, and I have a surprising number of light baskets that would be too easy to crush. We also need to figure out a good system so the movers will know which boxes need to go to my parents' house and not into the storage facility. 

I haven't been worried about getting everything packed before. I'm now worried we won't be able to get everything packed up and ready to go by Monday night. 

It's rained steadily nearly all day.