crazy, lazy

Moving Sucks

Moving sucks.  I cannot emphasize this enough.  I hate pretty much every aspect of moving.  I hate packing, unpacking, cleaning, lifting heavy things, you name it, I hate it. 

And its not just the physical aspects of moving that get me.  Mentally and emotionally, moving really destroys me.  I don’t really know why, but at one point, six years ago, I colapsed in a puddle of tears in the toilet paper aisle at WinCo during a move.

Sometimes I deal brtter than other times.  For instance, short moves that leave me in a better situation are obnoxious, but they don’t leave me distraught.

This move has brought me down to WinCo crying levels.  At first I was okay with moving back to Michaels’ mom’s house.  Then I heard some news (whihc will be passed on in a later engty) that changed my mind entirely, bt it was to late.  So I spent my weekend (or at least a good protion of it) crying in bed.

Another thing that bothers me about moving this time is my stuff.  Some people gate clutter.  I love it.  I want all my stuff accessible all the time.  I mean I want it hidden in drawers an closets, but I want it all there, right next to me.  I don’t even care about a lot of my stuff, but if I am going to have it, I want it close.  Boxing it all up for three months really bothers me.


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