Moving In (Out)

Moving. Is there anything more sucky?

We don’t always consider what goes into transferring everything you have from one place to the next, even if everything you have isn’t that much to begin with. Safe to say I was reminded of the many headaches involved when you decide you want to do everything in one day, which always sounds logical in theory but never ends up being easy, especially when U-Haul sends you to a distributor who doesn’t even rent trucks anymore and you’re stuck standing on the side of Dufferin Street on the phone to a customer service lady who can’t quite figure out why you would book with someone they cut ties with long ago even though the website gave no inclination of this. Not like that happened to me or anything.

"...and THIS box is for when I throw up!'

On the other hand, there’s nothing like moving to remind you of all the stuff you didn’t think you accumulated between now and the last time you moved. The trinkets purchased at Goodwill, school books that were too expensive to throw away and all the kitchen equipment that sounded like a good idea when you bought it but just ended up sitting in the dark chasm of some cupboard for eight months. Those things are usually haphazardly thrown into rickety cardboard boxes from the grocery store and wind up broken by the time you unpack them at your new place. Which reminds me – why do you think we end up producing so much garbage by the time we’re finished moving? Why couldn’t I figure out that all the stuff we threw away on the day we moved was garbage before putting them in boxes?

All said, we’re in and we’re not going anywhere for a while, because I will die if I have to move again anytime soon. We often underestimate how long it may take us to acclimatize to a new space – at least for me the effort can be long-term. If an environment is what you make of it, we’re sure to create a loft that represents our character. But getting used to a new place is totally different and involves some sleepless nights and a month of forgetting where I put things. Once I’m over that phase, though, our loft becomes a home – and thank the moving Gods for when that happens.