The worst thing about moving is not the packing. It’s not the long road trip from on location to another. It’s not leaving behind family and friends. It’s not trying to adjust to a new place. Hell, it’s not even having to change your address on every account, subscription, credit card, mailing list, and everyone’s Christmas card list (though that part is certainly annoying). No, the worst thing about moving is trying to find all of your stuff once you’ve moved into your new place.

Let’s face it, unless you’re still living like a poor college student and can schlep all of your worldly belongings from place to place in a couple of suitcases and a large garbage bag, you can pretty much count on being completely stressed out the first few days/weeks in your new home because you’ll be spending all of your time digging through all the crap you wonder why you even bothered to pack in the first place and trying to find the things you really need. Things like hairbrushes and checkbooks and cell phone chargers are nowhere to be found, but by God you know exactly where to find your old ratty t-shirts and collection of V.C. Andrews novels.

Need that piece of mail you tucked in the box you were carrying on the way out the door? Forget it. Can’t remember where you packed the toilet paper or dog treats? People who have joined the Witness Protection Program have been located faster.

It doesn’t really matter how carefully you pack, how clearly you label the boxes. There’s always that random thing that gets tucked into a box just because it happened to fit. And who hasn’t gotten down to the final stretch of packing for a move and just started tossing crap in boxes and saying to themselves, “It doesn’t matter. I’ll just sort through it all later.”

Later. Ha! Who the hell are we kidding? Everyone knows that “later” is code for “never”. And if not never, then definitely more than a year from now.

Steven and I are determined not to fall into the Later Trap. We’ve been living out of boxes for over a year now, because we were stubborn and refused to unpack anything more than absolutely necessary while we were living in the rental. Now that we’re finally in our own home again, we’re both anxious to get everything unpacked and put away. Unfortunately, Steven is away at work all day and I’m busy chasing Miss Cadence and working on photos. So, instead of being able get settled and feel at home right away, we’re forced to take it slow and unpack one box at a time.

While the clutter is driving my poor anal hus band crazy, I’m trying to look on the bright side of the situation. I’m planning to use my friend Kara’s Trashed 365 blog as inspiration in 2012 and go through every single box and bin we have left to unpack in this house. If it’s garbage, I’m going to throw it away. If it’s halfway cool or useful junk that I simply don’t want anymore, I’m going to sell it. And if it’s some old thing I haven’t seen in years that I can’t bear to part with, well, then I will find a place for it and hang onto it a little longer. In the end, it will all make for some really good stories of where it all came from and where it might be going.

Stay tuned…

 

About the Author Lori Romano

I am a writer, photographer, wife, mother, dog owner, half-assed housekeeper and a self-proclaimed coffee and chocolate addict. One day, I will write a book.

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