We moved into our house New Year’s Eve last year. I was diagnosed with mono within six weeks and spent the better part of this year doing a whole lot of nothing. House cleaning has been minimal, and my solution to almost all storage issues has been: throw it in the attic.
I sent Monkey Boy to Camp Granna for part of the week. (I had to, or one of us was gonna end up with a pillow on our face, and it was a coin toss which one.) I have stalled for as long as humanly possible on this chore. There’s no more getting around it. I can’t put my Christmas decorations away because there’s so much other crap in there. So now it’s me vs. the attic.
If I’m not seen or heard from in the next 48 hours, send help. The stuffed Pooh Bear was looking a little hungry when I went in.