Personal – GAAAHHHH (Moving)

My anxiety about packing and moving face

Did you pick up the hint that I put in Monday’s post?  The bit about putting all my things in boxes?  Yeah.  I’m moving again.  The boy and I bought a house, and we are putting all our things in boxes and moving there today.  By the time you read this post, burly Russian men will be putting all our belongings in a truck and driving away, but it’s ok because we paid them to do that.

Basically, I’m freaking out.  I’m not good at moving.  I’ve done it entirely too many times in the past decade.  I moved every year in college.  I moved in the summer between the two years of grad school.  I moved home.  I moved to an apartment, I moved to another apartment a year later.  I moved to Maryland and lived in the same apartment for three glorious years before being priced out of my own apartment by rent increases, and moved into a smaller apartment across the street.  A year after that I moved back to Virginia, and a year after that the Boy and I moved in together.  And here we are a year later…moving again.

The only good part about having moved all my earthly belongings…counts…17 times before this is that this – my 18th move as an adult – is one I hope is my last for a long time.  The feeling that I might be able to settle in for a while, to actually feel at home for years in one place is amazing.


And while I’m stressing out, you get a sort-of-day-off from reading actual content on my blog, unless you’re reading this, in which case not really.  If you are moving any time soon, I would highly recommend the reusable box service that we’re hiring (BungoBox, #notsponsored), as they deliver reusable STURDY boxes to your home, and then come pick them up again.  Winston has loved exploring them.  I love that I don’t have to worry about a box being loaded too heavy and crushing the box beneath it because they aren’t going to crush at all.  (I do still worry about the boxes being heavy)

So think of me fondly as I direct moving men and try to make sense of the maze of black plastic that is our apartment and soon to be new home.  It’ll be worth it in the end, and then I won’t have to think about packing for a long long time.

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