The packers come tomorrow to pack the stuff that will be shipped. They will come back Wednesday to haul it away. Then a new bunch comes Thursday to take the stuff that will be put into storage. I've spent the last week trying to organize things so that there's a clear definition between what stays and what goes.
The packers will pack anything that isn't nailed down. If there's trash in your trash can they'll pack it. They once packed all my shoes. ALL of them. I had none on. I'm not ready. I'm not going to be ready. I've resigned myself to that. I'm sure I'll have more panic attacks tomorrow morning before they get here. I'm sure I'll be up in the middle of the night because I remembered something. I'm sure some things will be sent that should stay and some things I want to go will be left behind.
I survived 2 years in Ghana with next to nothing. I will survive with whatever ends up there and will live without whatever doesn't. Okay, I think I'm breathing normally again.
That's not to say I won't have a few more mini-panic attacks between now and tomorrow.