Moving Sucks

Ugh.

I am going to go on record here and state the obvious: Moving sucks. The packing, the finding a new place to live, the packing, the headaches of selling and buying… it all is miserable. When people I have known for my entire life ask about my parents’ well being, they invariably ask if they still live in the same house. When I reply that they do, I am met with a look of surprise. My response? “They have too much stuff to move.

Don’t get me wrong, it is not that they are hoarders or anything, and their house is always very neat, but when you live in a house for forty years, you tend to accumulate stuff. Like every Gourmet magazine ever published. Before you poo-poo this, you should know that about two years ago, I was having a conversation with someone looking for a recipe from an old Gourmet. She knew approximately when it was published, and I told her I would get the recipe. The next day, I went over to the wall of magazines, found the approximate date, and scanned the recipe for her. My mother was validated by the usefulness of her month-and-year organized collection.

But I am not talking about other people’s stuff today. (Suddenly I have that song, O.P.P. in my head). FKGuy and I have been in our house for thirteen years. During that time we have amassed cookware, serving plates like you would not believe (and we use most of them),  hundreds of wine glasses (not kidding) and more. Now we also have a dog, who has her own stuff.

I know that normal people have a yard sale before they move, but alas, the gated community where the house is will not allow it (plus, how will people come to buy our stuff when they can’t get in?). Instead, we will have a yard sale when we move. What that means is this: we need to move a whole bunch of stuff so that we can then sell it. Yes, I have already sold some of it on Craigslist. Yes, I have donated some of it. But, there is more. Thirteen years worth of more to get out of my house and into other people’s homes.

The worst part about the packing is that there seems to always be more. It seems that I have been packing for weeks – ever since we got back from our vacation – and yet there is more. A lot more. Not to mention the clothes, which we still need to keep some of accessible, because it is not yet socially acceptable to go out in public without them. I have six more days to get it all packed, all while we are both working. So, if I miss a post this week, please forgive me, it is likely that I will have inadvertently packed my laptop. As long as I don’t accidentally pack Babka the dog, we are good. Although, unlike the laptop, she would likely remind me that she was in a box.

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