Procrastinators.

Last night, Felix and I both decided to tackle the basement. Luckily, he got the short end of the stick on this one because I took the time and got rid of 99% of my crap down there for my mom's yard sale this summer. I only have 4 or 5 boxes. But I still have to pack my DVDs, pictures, etc. Felix has stuff down there that he should've gotten rid of before we even moved in, but I think he's a closet pack-rat. He had a box of cassette tapes that he INSISTS he's going to convert to Cd's or whatever at some point...but they haven't moved since we moved in here two years ago. Anyway- so we both go down there with intentions of getting the stuff packed we didn't do this past Saturday because we both found other stuff to do.
We went downstairs, and started to make a pile of stuff we wanted to get rid off, which included three pillows and a rug. Then I said, "Eh, I'm not in the mood for this" and came upstairs.
Five minutes later, I hear him say, "screw it" and he came upstairs.
Looks like not too much has changed, we're both still going to wait until the last damn minute to get all this stuff done. Once a procrastinator, always a procrastinator, eh?