Still Packing, Still Griping

Fiorella dropped by Target yesterday and was pleased to notice that there was a sign out front saying  masks must be worn, and when she walked in, she saw a guy stationed near the door remind a man who had entered the store ahead of her to put his mask on.
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While clearing out the upper shelves in the kitchen, Fio discovered that she and Husband were the proud owners of forty-three cups of varying origins. She'll save a few of them, but the rest will be donated.
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After your girl finishes boxing up the kitchen, there's still the garage to attend to, and also her side of the bedroom closet, which includes her jewelry, a mess unto itself.
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Fiorella is so tired of people killing each other. And she's tired of packing and cleaning. And she's tired of being alone. Remember, she lives in the boonies, where people only see each other if they go out at the same time to pick up their mail.
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The horrible thing about the packing is that Fio has everything all crated up, it will have to be uncrated at the new house.