I have no choice in this process; the company will only pay for professional movers. It would be better for me if I could do all the work myself, but that is not how it has been organized.
There is nothing quite like the experience of having strangers sort your possessions. Not that I’m complaining; no, I worry about the strangers.
They arrive imagining that we are a respectable sort of family and quickly uncover the degenerate truth… from the assortment of cracked Madonna statues to the santeria candles, the dental prostheses collection to the taxidermy, the punk posters to glass eyeballs — we make a poor showing.
These nice men do not know what to say and I just hope they will not be offended.
I lurk around feeling awkward because I think that I should be doing the work, not standing here with a clipboard.
My house is full of boxes and the container arrives any minute to whisk it all away across the ocean.
Weeks before we can even apply for the visas.
This is alarming.