I’ve decided I really don’t care for moving, in all aspects. Helping someone else move isn’t great cause it usually means friends or family members are moving away. Of course, if they’re not moving away, just to a different location in the same vicinity it seems like work without much benefit. They’re still here, you’re still here, everyones happy that way, but there happened to be a lot of packing of boxes, moving of furniture, etc that’s just not enjoyable. Well, that’s not it, cause the actual moving can be enjoyable by the association and conversation with friends and family. I guess it’s the fact that when you’re finished it doesn’t feel like you’ve accomplished much. The goal of moving is to essentially end up with the same setup you started with, just in a different place.
Moving on, then there’s the even worse scenario; you’re the one moving. I moved out of my apartment yesterday and I’m still shocked at how much “stuff” I accumulated over the year I lived there. To make the moving process as painless as possible I started gradually moving things over the last few weeks until I reached the “bare essentials” for living. Yesterday I finally decided to bite the bullet and move those “bare essentials” out, leaving my room as empty as when I found it. I ended up filling my explorer from top to bottom. What I thought would take 1 hour to move and unpack has turned into 3+ (I’m not done yet). The thing is, I honestly didn’t have that much stuff to move (compared to some). I can only imagine (in horror) what it’ll be like to move when I’ve accumulated real stuff like furniture and such. That day could be in the not too distant future, scary.