If someone told me that I wouldn't open more than half the boxes I packed for years, if ever, I wouldn't believe them.

But, if someone told me that I wouldn't use the things in half the boxes I packed for many years, if ever, I would believe. 

Beginning back when I packed up my things at my parents house in 2003, heading off to University of North Texas, and continuing as I transferred to Univ. of Arkansas in Fayetteville, various boxes of "treasured" keepsakes keep getting moved but never sought out. Each time, I vow that I will use their contents as I carefully pack, but then only the surface of each is scanned when determining which box has my cell phone charger or Bible.

Occasionally, when an important item is lost during a move, the deep-dwelling possesions of any given box are unearthed. Then it begins. 

You know what I am talking about. For hours you've been diligently unpacking and organizing your new residence, but then it happens. You uncover that long-forgotten photo from junior high - remember the one? You with what you believe to be the coolest outfit, your mom's idea of a good haircut, a wire retainer and the remainings of baby fat?

That does it. You are done unpacking. You spend the next two hours wrapped in nostalgia, flipping through scrapbooks, yearbooks, and notes passed during freshman English.

When you finally get to the bottom of the box, you realize nothing is shelf- or frame-worthy, instead, you put everything back in the box and shove it in a closet or in the attic until the next move.

That's what has been going on with me for the last couple days. Boxes and boxes of stuff I can't part ways with - a stuffed bunny my step-second-cousin made me when my dad married my step mom in 1993, a baby blanket, my high school softball uniform, love notes from my husband when we spent two summers apart during college.

The trip down memory lane has been fun, but an complete time waster and, without a doubt, a space waster.

And, now, I just came to a depressing realization. While the unpacking continues, new memories are being created, photos of our new house and life in Little Rock are being taken, and I know that one day we'll pack these new memories up in some box only to be unearthed years - maybe decades - later.

Today is my second to last day at neighborsgo and I am very sad. I haven't been here that long, only a year and 3 months, but still I am growing nostalgic for my early days here.

Some of the best moments were likely my promotion from Allen editor to Allen and McKinney editor - and then most recently - to Richardson/Far North Dallas/Lake Highlands editor. 

Another moment would be the hot air balloon ride, making friends with some of my dearest sources like Tracey Cline with Allen Economic Development, and being able to walk the halls of The Dallas Morning News in the footsteps of amazing journalists.

Today, as I wrap up two or three stories and edit a bunch of stuff, I can't help but wonder if i'll ever have it this good again?

Of course, I have a great job to move onto (so does my hubby, which is why we are moving in the first place), so that makes leaving a little bit easier.

STAY TUNED...more to come on my actual move and my experiences in "The Natural State."