Packing sucks.

So Torsten is moving in with me on Monday. This necessitates, obviously, a thorough Going-Through of all of the crap (I mean, extremely important personal belongings) that he has accumulated in his apartment over the past two years.

Actually, that's not really fair. He doesn't have much crap. He mostly just has huge piles of boxes and packaging, because almost all of his belongings were ordered on Amazon, and apparently hauling the packages and padding that once contained said belongings all the way down the hall to the trash room is too much of a daunting task to truly be contemplated.

Anyway, everything was fine until I came across the gift bag that once upon a time (okay, on February 14) contained Torsten's Valentine's Day gift to me. It is a lovely bag, white with silver hearts (I think), transparent rubber handles, and (best of all) a pale purple interior. But it has lain empty and dusty on the floor of his apartment for four months.

Quite reasonably (I thought), I asked Torsten if he thought we would ever use the bag again, or if it could potentially be thrown away.

The response I got was the most hurt, accusing look ever. I only wish I'd had a camera.

So, we're keeping the gift bag. Forever, apparently.

All I can say is, we're keeping it on his side of the closet. Which is, for the record, the smaller side.