Packing

Packing...Packing, packing. Go to the next room, pick up semi-vintage collector's edition Fat Elvis Bobblehead, wipe the dust off his face and drop it in the box. Take it back out, put it in another box. Go get soda, take a chug. Go back, sit on floor cradling bobblehead Elvis overcome with odd memories that lead to to others. Realize Fat Elvis is harboring a secret power to derail your packing. Lob semi-vintage piece of junk towards trash pile that has overtaken trash can. Guilt attacks every time you see his self assured smirk as the ass-end goes over the fore-end while he plummets to his fate. He lands facing you, a banana peel wrapped like a canary turban round his shiny head. Guilt turns to anger, and you slam Elvis' head down in the trash can, bundle the trash with a neat red bow, and frog march it down to the dumpster.

Two hours later, convinced the bobblehead is your spirit guide, you are hip deep in the dumpster sifting through old chinese food, dirty kleenexes and a Bob Dylan Record collection. Alas, a banana peel is folded back to reveal the not-so-shiny bobblehead. You wipe it off, take it back upstairs, and drop it in the box. Only, it doesn't look right.

Lather, Rinse, Repeat.