Can someone help me please?!

This week I'm faced with the appalling task of packing.
Crap.
Just so you know, I struggle with this at the best of times. Every time I leave the house I spend slightly longer than necessary deliberating what to take with me (it might rain at any time you know!); I regularly overpack when I go away; or forget something crucial like my toothbrush or pyjamas.
These problems are less of an issue this time though because I have to pack EVERYTHING. That is seven years of...stuff...into one car. How did I do this before? It feels like an impossible challenge.
I think the key will be a sudden charitable spirit. I with have to ruthlessly give away all of those things I don't use but hang onto "just in case."
But i neeeeeeeed it all. The incense set you never use? Yes, I fancy a fragrant bath experience when I get home. The old videos? Yes! Good Will Hunting is a classic. The broken bike? Isadora is merely sick and I will nurse her back to health for some glorious country cycling.
You see?
And then once I have crammed my life into a combination of suitcases, cardboard boxes and bin bags I'll have to then unpack. Which is worse. Much worse. Because the thing is, at my parents house, where I am temporarily a lodger/squatter I have even more stuff. Where am I supposed to fit all my clothes, books, sewing machine, tool kit etc when the wardrobe is full of purple Lycra catsuits, tutus, and boxes of old school books? And a million teddy bears, most of whom I have forgotten the names of but can't bear to send away. They'll be so sad. I've seen Toy Story.
What I suspect will happen here is that I will just transfer a lot of stuff to the attic. Don't tell the parents. They'll just get a pleasant surprise when they get the Christmas tree out in December and find my life in the way.
But I'll be far away by then...MWAHAHAHA!
Alternatively I'll become resident interior designer and rearrange the whole house to make a space for myself. Thus far, I have not really looked into potential employment so I may as well add this to my current list of things to do: learn to cook; learn to run; clean; write a book of fairytales. Re-decorate. Lovely.
But I'm getting ahead of myself. I don't even have any cardboard boxes yet. All I've done is look about me in dismay and wail: "Can someone help me please?!" and then immediately leave the room and concentrate on diminishing my food stocks one potato at a time. In my head this is productive.
Maybe I'll wait until my Dad comes to my assistance. Or maybe I'll invite various friends over to talk to me while I agonise over whether I will ever wear that bright green flowery halter neck again.
Expect a call friends. I need you.