An Ode To Moving

We've all done it at least once in our lives (starting with our exit from the womb). Moving. Surely, hell is a place where you continually accumulate more and more posessions, which you must pack, unpack, and move to a smaller space every single day for an eternity. As you've guessed, Corrie and I are finally "moved out" of our old apartment, which is distinctly different than being "moved in" to our new one.

For this reason, I have decided to dedicate this blog to the travesty of moving. It is something I have done 15 times in the last 8 years - and I think each time I have had at least slightly more stuff to move. This isn't our last move, certainly- in fact, we'll probably be moving again in just about a year. This time around, moving was exciting because we got to add "furniture" and a wide range of gifts that we received for our wedding to our list of posessions. Yes, coming from my previous "bachelor" moves, this relocation has been a little different. Whereas in my single years, I subsisted mostly on top ramen and orange peels that required no cooking tools other than tap water and fingernails, we now have 2 cuisinarts for cooking, both of which are still in original factory packaging and boxes. Whereas before, I could sweep the wood shavings I slept on into the garbage, we have to rent a truck to fit the king-sized, double-pillowtop mattress. Life has changed, and with it, moving has become even more of a nightmare.

I will begin my homage to moving with a few short haikus. You’ll remember that a haiku consists of a three-lined verse, with 5, 7, and 5 syllables in each respective line. I recommend composing haikus for just about all situations. The word “haiku” is most likely the Japanese equivalent of “achoo,” or the sound one makes in an American sneeze. They are supposed to be a source of healing by “sneezing out” one’s emotions and thoughts into a booger-like poem.

Moving worse than hell
Crap packed in boxes galore
Makes me hate my life

Where is it all from
Crap, crap, crap, crappity crap
Knee-deep I wallow

Too crappy to love
Too worthless for donation
Precious junk, I pack

The special thing about moving is that, not only do you get to pack all of your possessions, but those possessions then get to be unpacked shortly after. Usually, just around the time that you are finally done getting things unpacked over the course of a year or decade, it is time to pack it all up again. Some cultures believe that once a house is unpacked, evil moving demons will arrange for a work reassignment, just so that you can never be truly settled. This is why it is always smart to leave at least one room in your residence totally unfinished. Preferably with large crucifixes on the wall.

Below are some pictures of our “new” and “comfortable” apartment. Unlike the common belief that more space is better, we are downsizing by several hundred square feet and a garage, which means that these pictures reflect the way our apartment will probably stay throughout our residence. The good news, of course, is that our new apartment is currently as moving-demon-proof as it could be.

The first picture is our kitchenette/living room/dining room.



And of course, the most important room in the apartment: the office/guestroom/junkyard. Yes, that’s a box in the front labeled: “Family photos, 1971-1990.”




Everyone should know their moving quotient, which is the number of times they have moved divided by the number of years they have been alive. Mine is .923, meaning I have moved 24 times in my 26 years of life. It’s a great conversation starter at bars, and something impressive to cite on your resume. Anyone that is over the age of 21 and that has a moving quotient of 1 is usually qualified to hold just about any top-level job in the government, and can always get a job with “Starving Students,” a moving service that is notorious for crappy help, trucks that break down, and over-qualified subjects for deodorant-testing companies.

Here’s hoping we can call stay put for awhile; and just for the heck of it, I’d recommend packing up at least one box-load of stuff just to keep the spirit of unwanted moves far, far away. Once we get settled a little more, I’ll write about something profound and serious. Until then, you can come into my world by taking a dump in a box, labeling it “crap,” and adding it to our piles.