My house is in chaos. Cindy, Cody and I are getting a new roommate, the incorrigible, wonderful Brandon, and that means that we have to have a room swap. Brandon and Cody are taking my room, which is the biggest (sigh), and I am moving into Cody’s room. It should be an adventure trying to cram my packrat-ness into a 12×12 box (tiny closet not included).
I was sitting on my floor this morning, packing up the last few bits and bobs into paper bags for the move across the hall, sort of going on autopilot, since the total milage of the move is a total of a couple dozen feet. In the grand scheme of my life, this move is chump change. I started thinking about all the moves I have made in the last ten years, and it comes to somewhere around the neighborhood of 10 to 12. That’s right, from college dorms to various apartments and houses, I have moved about 12 times.
I was chatting with my mom on the phone the other day about my possible move to start a new community house later this year, and she was saying how thankful she was that she wasn’t going to be around when I moved this time. I started to protest that I have moved on my own, but then I checked myself. Leave it to my elephant memory to forget that my mother has helped in at least half of those moves. One in particular that I remember (and I’m sure my mom will never forget!) involved climbing two sets of long stairs to get to my new third story apartment. My mother claimed she would never move me again. Not that I blame her. I don’t like to move me. My aforementioned affinity for stuff makes it slow goings to move.
I’ve gotten more efficient at packing over the years, though, which helps. You learn what needs to be organized, and what can be thrown into so many plastic grocery sacks until you can sort through it at a later date. Start packing in advance. A promised pizza dinner goes a long way to convincing your guy friends to help you move your stuff. Keep track of important papers. No, really. Start packing well in advance. Be prepared to shell out a small fortune just to get started in a new place, particularly when your last roommate owned all of the dinnerware, cooking utensils, media equipment, etc.
It can all be very daunting. But when you finally sit on your new couch and start making plans to enjoy your new neighborhood, I think it’s worth it.