So… the movers arrived last week to carry all our worldly goods into our new house.
For those with a keen memory and/or a recent move under your belts: You already know what our lives have been like this week. But if you’ve been blessed with a long-term fixed address and/or a mercifully short memory, I can sum it up in two words: Utter chaos.
We had six men (plus ourselves) going flat-out for six hours. I had a vague idea that we had ‘way too much stuff; but since I had only packed and loaded a couple of dozen boxes personally, the reality was an ugly shock.
At the beginning of the day, I had a plan: Boxes would be placed in tidy groups in pre-designated areas so I could easily unload their contents into their intended locations… Hey, you in the back: Stop snickering! And you in the front, pick yourself up off the floor and quit laughing your ass off!
Okay, fine; so I was delusional. That’s what happens when you haven’t moved for 18 years.
The boxes just kept coming. And coming. And… coming.
By Hour 2 they had overflowed my tidy designated areas.
By Hour 4 my directions to the movers had devolved into, “I don’t care; put it wherever you can find a space.”
By Hour 5, I was begging them to break stuff so I wouldn’t have to deal with it.
By the end of the day I was seriously considering moving back to the hotel and living there for the rest of my life, leaving the gargantuan mountain of boxes to moulder slowly in the ruins of the house.
But I didn’t. I sucked it up and carved a bedroom out of the disaster zone that night. And ever since then, I’ve been organizing the kitchen.
I’m a major foodie and I live to cook and bake. I love all my kitchen gadgets and dishes, truly I do. BUT FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, PEOPLE; WHY DIDN’T YOU STOP ME WHEN I WAS BUYING ALL THAT SHIT?!?
It’s finally more or less under control, though, and after the marathon of kitchen organization the rest of the house will be anticlimactic. (Says she with ridiculous naïvete.)
So here are the top three lessons I’ve learned from this move:
- No matter how organized you are with your “pack-last-unpack-first” boxes, there will always be one critical item you’ve forgotten… and it will always be at the bottom of the very last box you unpack.
- Self-adhesive shelf paper was created by Satan himself in the fiery depths of hell, solely to torture poor fools like me. I wrestled with it for at least 20 minutes per cabinet and it still looks as though I applied it in the dark with one hand tied behind my back while completely inebriated.
- When weathering the stresses of moving with a dearly beloved spouse, it’s important to remember that marriage is all about give and take: Give blame and take credit.
Seriously, though, Hubby and I haven’t killed each other yet, so that’s gotta be a good sign. And now that the boxes are diminishing, it’ll be sunshine and Disney from here on in, right?
(Shhh! Don’t burst my fragile bubble of hope.)
What’s moved you this week?