In case you have been wondering what I have been doing for the last several days, allow me to update you: I’ve been cataloging. That means that it has been my honour and privilege to count everything we own from the spoons and forks to the books that we have stacked in literally every room of the apartment. In addition to counting the miscellaneous items, I have also been assigning them values for insurance purposes.
And therein lies the problem. How do you assign a value to “The Holiday Dragon” book you received for your 10th birthday, which is about you, your friends, and a really cool dragon? Do you admit that if a cup breaks it will cost $15 to replace or add in the cost of having it shipped to your new home? These are the conundrums I have been tackling for the last few weeks as my trusty Excel spreadsheets and I have been listing everything we own. (Me and Hubby, not me and the spreadsheet – it doesn’t own anything.)
A few things have become apparent during these sessions. Hubby owns far, far, far too many books about economics, math, and marketing. And while he may have fewer books in his boring collection than I do – his cost three times as much! While we are on the subject of books, it may be slightly possible that I own too many. Maybe. But probably not.
The insurance lists may be tedious and boring but they are definitely bringing home the fact that we’re about to leave Nairobi. The movers will be packing up our things over three days next week at which point we will be alone in our empty, TV-less apartment. (Guess which part is freaking me out the most!)
I’m going to have to sign off now as I have more lists to make and stress over and time is running out. So little time, so freaking much out to do.