This year it’s rather hard on me. Getting things unpacked was an ordeal. First it was the packing, and now it was the un packing. When we moved to Massachusetts in 2018, I was away in Peshawar, Pakistan for my annual trip there. I had packed my own stuff before leaving in November 2017. Son did the moving, so I was spared all the hard work. This time I got the full blast of it.
Some of the things were packed by Son. Now three weeks later I’m still trying to find the stuff. Yesterday I searched through fourteen boxes 📦 of Son, trying to find some of the kitchen things I badly need, while he had gone to Salt Lake, Utah. I wasn’t successful in my endeavors. The result was a terrible case of getting a painful back. I scolded myself thoroughly after that, and to recover I made myself take a rest.
I have resigned myself to buying some of the things I need, because with Son not at home, I can’t over burden myself in searching for stuff. I will only make myself ill. I have applied for a health insurance here, to which there is no reply yet. It takes a month for my new insurance to kick in. This means I can’t see a doctor till then.