Movin' Out

I've been procrastinating big time on packing up my life and preparing it to spend the next few months in boxes. I had warned a friend visiting last week that my apartment was completely torn apart, and most things were in boxes, and it wasn't without a certain amount of humor that he remarked that it did not appear to be packed in the least.

Mostly because it's not. I'm so unprepared.

While I had planned to move, it was intended to be one big, long-term, long-distance move, not one short, one mid range and one long distance move within a 3 month span. I have to pack 3 different types of boxes -- those things essential to my comfort and well-being over the next few months, those things which are needed close at hand just in case, and those things that can be thrown in the back of a kind friend's pickup to save space in the U-Haul when the time comes.

And I'm terrible at it. It took me over a month and a half to whittle down enough crap out of my backpack prior to Europe that I could comfortably wear the damn thing for more than an hour. And the rest of the stuff I could leave at home. Packing your life up and trying to decide what is worthwhile to bring FOREVER? I really hate this part of moving.

I love moving into a new place: Unpacking boxes, cleaning the area to make it yours, rearranging, decorating to suit your tastes.. it's a glorious time. However 6 months of packing people's possessions for a living has made me jaded about my own possessions. There are things I am very fond of or dearly attached to, but these things are all such a hair-splitting pain in the arse to pack that often I think I should not be attached to one single thing I own (besides the cat, because I am still a responsible pet owner, and besides, she's easy to pack). I hate getting ready to move -- labeling the boxes; making brief lists of what else needs to be done; donating things; throwing things out; giving things away; ; collecting boxes; newsprint on your hands, on your cupboards, on your face; sleepless nights and headache filled days. And then moving them. One box at a time, tetris'd into the back of a truck/van or car, trying to remember not to put the books on top of the glassware.

Wow. What a joke.

One day I endeavour to be able to fit everything I own into a bindle and then I'm going vagabonding. Swear to God.