Moving is madness. (sorry, no photos)

There are hairshirts you can wear, and shards of glass you can step on.  But if you’re really serious about causing yourself pain and suffering, nothing tops moving.  Nothing.

I don’t care if they say that changing jobs (specifically losing jobs) and getting divorced is hard on a person.  That may be true.  But just try to live for several months out of boxes, not knowing where the toilet paper is, let alone your next meal or your favorite pair of shoes. 

I hate moving.  I don’t ever want to have to do it again in my life.  Okay, if I win the lottery, I might move to a groovy house in Colorado – but I’d probably pay to have a company do all the packing and schlepping.  But of course I’d have to start buying lottery tickets first, so that’s never going to happen. 

To try and get myself out of the grumps of moving, I’ve decided to try and look at the bright side.  For instance: 

You may be an ugly, sweaty mess for days on end… but at least you will be growing your hair out and nails out because you didn’t have time to sit and bite them (the nails) and you have enough length on the hair to get that Brazilian Blowout your husband purchased for you as an interesting Xmas present.  True story. 

You may be getting your car super dirty hauling endless loads of boxes and plants over … but now you know EXACTLY what the capacity of you Honda Fit really is, just in case you ever have fifteen clowns trying to get inside.  You will know that only fourteen fit.  The last clown has to sit on the hood, or go home.Preferably they will all go home and leave you alone because you’re too cranky for those damn clowns anyway. 

You think you’re so clever because you know exactly where the bread and meat are so you go to make a sandwich, only to find out someone else already moved the mustard…and the mayo, ketchup, chutney, hot sauce, etc.  So you end up having yogurt and some of those old pieces of fruit in the bin.  See?  Moving is healthy for you.  

You can’t commit to working out at the gym for at least three weeks, but you end up losing five pounds from all the stooping, walking, lifting, etc.  

You lose your mind… but you find stuff that you had already accepted as permanently missing from your life, like that weird tube of bright red lipstick.  What was it doing in the bottom of the fish-tank accessory bag?  Really?? 

You are pretty sure that the last two garage sales you had last year really did the job of cleaning out all the crap you didn’t need.  Now however, you can see you were completely wrong.  But hey, we made lots of money at those sales and maybe we can do it again!  But not until fall.  I really don’t care if the garage is full of crap and neither of our cars will fit.  We’re simply not capable of pulling it off.  We’re too old for this crap.  Maybe we’ll just have a nice big bonfire… ya’ll come over and bring your marshmallows and your Pabst Blue Ribbon, ya hear!? 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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