So, by the time this posts, I will be tossing and turning, trying to claim the last two hours of sleep before I have to get out of bed and start frantically preparing.
Today is Moving Day.
I’ve moved a lot, especially if you count back and forth from school when I was living out in Salem. Some things I’ve learned about myself and the process:
1. You never realize how much shit you have until you have to put it all in boxes.
I have been on a huge get-rid-of-it kick. If I could walk out of the apartment with a bag of clothes, the cat, my laptop, and sewing machines, I would. Maybe I would take the paintings that Stewart and I have found. A couple of sentimental items like the cake topper from our wedding. Otherwise, I don’t need it.
2. You find out who your real friends are.
The real friends are the ones who have helped you move and still offer to help the next time. During the last move, I had a back injury and things weren’t packed. Things weren’t cleaned. It was awful. On top of that most of my friends were in various stages of baby creation, and even they were there to help. Friends hauled my giant ass dining room table up to the third floor. Friends carried my fabric collection. Friends packed and then unpacked my kitchen.
3. No matter what your best intentions are, you won’t be ready.
I’ve been packing for 2 months. We’ve had out storage unit for one month. I’m still not done. I’m probably not going to be done until late Sunday night, and that is only with my mom and probably my sister there kicking my ass the entire way.
4. Paying people to move your crap is worth it.
I am a top floor dweller. this is our 3rd consecutive 3rd floor residence. I am not an athlete. My stuff is heavy. My dad and Stewart were outliers on this point…until my dad came to help me move my couches and some other stuff into storage. We aren’t getting any younger over here, and while moving a ton (not a euphemism for a lot, literally a ton) of stuff from one place to another it already hard, but add to that several flights of stairs and everyone is worse for it. When i buy a house, I’m buying a ranch.
5. Every move is a chance to start over.
The big thing I’m doing with this reincarnation? The only things I am bringing with me from the craft room are tools and projects that I have already started. All of my half knitted hats and dresses that just need fitting or hemming. Several partially completed samplers. My scrapbook. All of the raw materials are going into storage.
Some odds and ends:
- You never need more than one kitchen table.
- Ikea furniture only has so many re-assemblies in it before the particle board is not salvageable.
- The dryer needs to be stacked on top of the washer in the storage unit.
- Make sure all, ahem, personal items are moved by hand, in person (this was not on my move, but a move but one I heard about).
- Move the bed ahead of time.
- Also, move the pets as early as possible. Pets don’t like packing or moving.
- What the hell am I doing with 200lbs of records? It’s an outdated medium. That I love.
Hopefully I make it through the day with little to no trauma. Either way, my mom will be there to help talk me off the ledge.