Unpacking Chronicles

There’s only one thing in the world worse than unpacking and that’s packing. But right now I’m in the unpacking stage so that feels like the very worst thing there is. I’m bad at unpacking for the same reason I’m bad at packing: I have a lot of stuff. So much stuff. It took me about a week to unpack everything and it only took Joy about 4 hours if that gives you any idea. While my willingness to live in a disaster zone might make you believe otherwise, I’m super particular about how everything is organized. I worked in the apparel section at Dick’s for one summer so I still think I’m the resident expert on folding and everything has to be color coded and sorted. It’s a little ridiculous. So I thought I’d give you all a little look into the nightmare of Willetts 117.

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Rule 14: Don’t Complain

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This week I was on a fall trip for DAE which is basically a group that helps the alumni office and as a thank you they buy us food and wicked sick sweatshirts. The first three nights we were camping in Gatlinburg, and it’s not really a stretch to say I’m not really a camping person. The only person more out of her element than me was Morgan, who actually started crying at work when she found out we were camping. On top of that, we didn’t have showers the whole time we were there, and it rained. A lot. I tried to give up and get a hotel at least 48 times but I actually had no power to do that so it didn’t work very well. But in the spirit of the Fall Trip Rules, here’s a list of all the things I’m not complaining about.

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TBT: Revenge

All you need to know about my senior year of high school is that I bought studs on the internet so I could put them on my clothes myself. In light of that, it’s not hard to imagine that I wasn’t on the best terms with my parents. They had a lot of rules and I had a pretty strong aversion to the rules and the tension was plentiful.

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Time

Yesterday I went on a run but I did some some sprints and then mostly walked and didn’t feel bad about it even when cars passed me and the super athletic soccer moms wondered what I was doing walking around the middle of nowhere in athletic clothes. I did a whole bunch of handstands, fell over once which made me literally see stars for the next four minutes, and braided some wildflowers into my hair. I listened to music that was far too slow to exercise to out in the air instead of through my headphones and stopped to take pictures whenever I wanted and thought about what Donald Miller has to say about Jesus. And the only moral I can give you is to mark off a few hours and do whatever you want to do and don’t feel bad about it and take as much time as you need and think about everything and move slowly.

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Don’t Camp My Style

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This week is Camp Week which for the Storms means planning the full day of activities for a seven day, two hundred person, Christian family summer camp. Plans have been in the works for almost a full year and evenings are spent matching up new volunteers to positions that have been abandoned and reviewing the announcements I’ll give to the troops the next morning. It’s not exactly typical camping, we’re in a trailer (think RV without the car part) and wifi is attainable if you walk five minutes to camp center which is incidentally where you’ll find all the 14-17 year olds, peering into their iPhones like they’ve found the bread of life.

Anyways, every year camping is camping but there are a few things that are simply vital to the experience.

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