I doubt anyone dislikes moving more than me.
Unfortunately, I had to leave the hubby in May, and am going through lots of changes … for the better, I trust. I moved into this tiny, one-bedroom apartment to save us both some money, and it was like moving into a camper. Space is at a premium.
Let’s see, where can I set this iron to cool down? Ah, I have about a 1.5 square-foot space on the kitchen counter! Now where should I put this 12-pack of toilet paper? Where else but in the one closet I’ve got?
I don’t like living out of boxes – not at all. So when I moved in, I put everything wherever it would fit. The cable guy came the next day to hook up the internet.
“How long you been here?” he asked.
“Since yesterday.”
“Wow, you’re amazing! I can’t believe you’re already moved in!”
In my mind, I wasn’t moved in at all, but I guess it looked like that to him. A couple of months later, a friend stopped by from out of town.
“Wow, you’ve got everything up on the walls – you’re all moved in!”
I should hope so, after two months. Don’t other people unpack? I knew this move would be temporary, but I can’t stand to live in chaos, so I made it livable – even if just for several months.
And now I’m packing boxes, carefully labeling them, hoping the movers will actually READ where the boxes go. If they’re in the right room, I can more easily find whatever I’m looking for, without going nuts.
My thoughts drift back to one move in particular, which was a nightmare. Our first baby was six months old. I knew we were moving out of state, but I didn’t know exactly when … until one morning, when there was a knock on the front door. It was a handful of our employees.
“Hi, we’re here to move you,” said one guy cheerfully.
“Right now?” I asked.
“Yes, your husband sent us over here with this truck, and we’re here to move you.”
Why am I always the last one to hear about anything?!
“Well,” I said, “I guess you can start with the big stuff, while I pack up boxes.”
And that’s how the day went. Keep the baby in the swing … pack up a bunch of boxes … crank up the swing again … which wakes the baby … Oh, maybe he’ll go back to sleep … pack more boxes … try to stay one room ahead of these guys … crank the swing … “Waaaaaaah!” … nurse the baby, put back into swing, crank it up … pack more boxes …no labels … Oh well, I’ll figure it all out in the new place …
In the new place … Where on earth is that fying pan? And the dishes? Rumage through boxes … crank up the swing … I sware it was in this box … open more boxes … crank up the swing … “Waaaaaaah!” … nurse the baby, put back in swing, crank it up … go through the same boxes again, using a few choice words … The baby IS asleep, right?
I think he swung in that swing for a solid month, as I hunted and unpacked and hunted some more. Forgive me, my son!
So, no more last-minute moves for me, no thank you. Give me a couple weeks to pack up, and a couple weeks to unpack, and I’m good to go.
The upside of moving is that it forces you to get rid of all the stuff you don’t need. So I guess moving twice in one year should keep me fairly uncluttered.
How ‘bout you? Your best move? Your worst?
October 23, 2011 at 8:25 pm |
Moving from a house to a boat was the most radical and the most liberating of our several moves. A forty foot cruiser is a big boat but a very small house–you can’t bring much stuff and you can’t bring any furniture at all.
Plus suddenly we lived in a home that rocked and made creaking sounds as it tugged at its mooring lines.
October 23, 2011 at 8:39 pm |
Now that’s adventurous!
November 14, 2011 at 8:32 pm |
I’ll be thirty five years old in one week, and I have to say that I have moved several dozens of times! I hate moving! Unfortunately,I relate geography and my happiness together. So, my bags and boxes are always packed. Perhaps, one day I will sit still long enough to unpack all of my things. I guess I never got over Rockland County, Nyack NY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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November 14, 2011 at 9:49 pm |
OMG — I’m from Pearl River! Sitting in the Atlanta airport right now — was in Piermont last week. Just got back from a seminar where it was suggested we re-write our life story — starting now — with ourself as the main character. What can it hurt? Might even change the course of our life’s destiny. I wish you well, my dear.