I hate duct-tape. Absolutely hate it. Duct-tape, along with packing foam has ruined me for marriage, scarred me for life and severely strained my relationship with my mother.
For those of you that have been confronted by duct-tape wielding assailants, then you know there’s this screaming ripping sound as the adhesive separates from the rest of the roll. The packing foam leaves this smooth film over your hands and face (and feet if you’re into log-rolling) that makes it impossible to hold something without it slowly and surely sliding out of your grip and, were I more dexterous, would allows me to sliding across the floor in my underwear balanced on my hands in some strange James Brown-Cirque Du Soleil fusion.
Several people were enlisted to consume piles of tape and foam in order to transform our home into a massive storage unit filled with large and unrecognizable lumps of white foam.
Somehow this...
plus this, the wanna-be bubble-wrap...
ends up equaling this. -___-
Until you have tried to pack a house of any size that’s been lived in for a substantial period of time (3+ years), this post may be lost on you. And until you have been faced with an irate brown woman covered in sweat, foam and tape brandishing a stencil knife and calling herself your mother, well I may just be alone in that regard but, once again, totally over your heads. After a while the boxes began to take over the house unleashing a silent but quickly progressing battle between myself and a cornucopia of stuff.
This used to be a bedroom before it fell before the tyranny of stuff.
There used to be a bathroom in there...it too died.
Soon came the day when the baggage including my lovely bed had to be moved from the house to the trailer waiting outside. It was raining heavily as it the skies were mocking all the sweat that had poured with equal ferocity during the hours of manual labour that had gone into preparing for that day.
Goodbye faithful bed!
Bed...kinda. And yes that's a bathroom; the one that survived.
Overall packing took months and I have yet to unpack since that day seeing as how I still don’t have a home just yet (fingers crossed, knock on wood, salt my fries et cetera, et cetera) so I’m living out of plastic bags in my aunt’s house and I’m convinced I lost most of my underwear in transit. I’ll be packing again in August for college but I’ve had months of experience so I think it should be fine.
But I refuse to use duct-tape. Maybe giant ribbons but please…no duct-tape.
-Eva
