It's funny -- not "haha" funny, more like "you belong in a funny farm" funny -- the conversations you have with yourself when you're trying to pack up your apartment, and decide which of your things you're not going to see for a while. For example:
Me: Could I live without my pasta pot?
Myself: Sure, maybe.
Me: OK, putting it in the box...
Myself: No. Hang on. Wait, I don't think I can...
Me: Are you insane?
Myself: I use it all the time!
Me: It's a pot and a strainer.
Myself: I love my pasta pot! It is awesome. And what if packing it makes me stop cooking pasta? Pasta is cheap and easy! I should be making more cheap and easy meals. Stop! DON'T PUT IT IN THE BOX.
Me: Sigh.
***
Me: I can live without the salad spinner, right?
Myself: Sure. I mean I've used it twice in a year.
Me: Fine. That one's easy.
Myself: Wait.
Me: Oh Christ.
Myself: Well, I've used it twice in the past month -- once I remembered I owned a salad spinner. And it made me eat greens, so that was good. It made me feel virtuous. So... maybe don't pack it yet?
Me: You are a moron.
***
Me: Wow, I have too many books.
Myself: Yes, once I pack them all I will feel as though I've made progress.
Me: All these big, heavy hardcovers are going straight into boxes.
Myself: Oh, totally. But wait. Don't pack Infinite Jest.
Me: ARE YOU INSANE?
Myself: Well, I was just saying last week that maybe I would read it soon. Didn't you hear me? Last week?
Me: Yes, but it's like, 3,000 pages long, and 20 pounds.
Myself: But I might read it! Soon!
Me: You say that every year.
Myself: What if I pack it, and then I am sitting here with nothing to do because I already packed everything, and I think, now I finally want to start Infinite Jest, but oh no, I packed it, and now I am filled with regret?
Me: So rather than pack it, you're seriously going to carry this behemoth around with you in your suitcase?
Myself: Maybe.
Me: Sigh.
