Our house is a mess. After the madness of moving, Rob and I have both started doing this thing where we come home and then…just go back out. Like we’ll stroll back in from dinner and in the two hour absence, two hours of intense unpacking will have magically taken place.
That has not quite worked out yet, and it turns out it’s easier to take pictures of a mess than to actually clean it. By pretending to see beauty in the clutter I’ve actually convinced myself that it’s fine to leave it all for a bit longer. Because I excel at selling myself on crap ideas, I can really make myself believe that it’s good to see our things in unexpected places in this new space, like it’s a brain exercise to rethink my belongings.
I don’t imagine this bullshit is going to fly for much longer. At some point one of us will point out that we’re just being lazy, and get up and do something about it. Until then, I’m going to hide behind my camera and take shots of some of my favorite things from the old house, resting uncomfortably in the new house.