I know. There's really no earth-shattering point to be made about moving and how much fun it isn't. Every move is unique and yet each one fills us with dread. The organizing, packing, purging, lifting, toting and cleaning all crammed in a matter of a few days. Oh sure, you can get started early. I did. I found that the misery just started earlier and lasted longer. After 2 months of preparation, the movers arrive tomorrow morning to do the heavy lifting.
We picked up the keys to our new place yesterday. We had dinner and will sleep here tonight. Tomorrow night, we'll have furniture instead of camp chairs and a 42-in plasma tv for movie viewing rather than a 17-in laptop screen. We'll be a long way from settled in and still a week or so from surrendering the keys to the old place but, like the pain of childbirth, the moving memories will start to fade. I'm working hard to retain the data on the car loads we donated and the mountains to trash we purged so that when, a few weeks from now, when I am cussing the fact that we have too much stuff, I'll be able to remember how far we've come. In the meantime, I will continue to chant, "Moving sucks."
