The boxes have all decided to huddle up in a corner. And I am keeping to mine. I don't know how long this stand off will continue for, but I know it can't last for ever. One of us will cave in. Either the boxes will fill themselves, or I will take action into my own hands and do that silly chore for them. After all I am a capable human being, born to be a manager, a visionary rather - who sits back and issues orders veiled as suggestions and requests, of course.
My biggest dilemma is not packing - but rather what to take with me and what to leave behind. I fully understand that things are things are things. Just things. But all those things have sentimental value to me. As a self-confessed shopaholic, with a social consciousness, I have taken it upon myself to keep the economies of the countries I have been through going, and the catalogue of damage is evident in the junk I have amassed. True, I have ferried a lot of the spoils of those indulgences back to the homeland, with every trip back to Bahrain and as a result I have rooms full of my 'stuff' in three different homes in Bahrain waiting for me to uncover what I have hidden in them.
But you know as much as I do that whatever goes into boxes will remain there forever after, or until the things decide to come to life and reach out of their boxes.
Sigh! And I thought I had a frugal existence here. If that was the case what are those closets full of? Call them stuff, rubbish or junk, deciding what to do or not do with them is proving to be extremely difficult.