Moving Woes

In college, I lived with a girl named Kate. Together, we lived in our first off-campus apartment and then in two different houses after that. Kate was an excellent mover. Whenever we were moving to a new place, she would wake up bright and early on moving day, finish packing up a few little boxes, and by the evening she would have everything settled at our new house. Boxes unpacked, sheets clean, pictures hanging on the new wall just so.

I, on the other hand, would be drowning in boxes for a month. I would get stuff hung on the walls six months later or possibly not at all if another move seemed imminent. Because here is truth… I suck at moving.

I don’t understand the Kates of the world. The ones who make moving look so easy, even a little fun. The opportunity to move everything I own from one residence to another one? Let’s do it! It will be a cinch. A few of the ladies I follow on Instagram have moved recently. They are Kates. I have photographic proof that they left their old house on a Friday, and by Monday morning they were all set up in their new house with pictures on the wall and their home-schooled children working blissfully at the dining room table while homemade chicken stock simmered on the stove.

HOW IS IT EVEN POSSIBLE?!

I have been working on my house all weekend long and as I sit here, I can see my dining room table littered with THINGS, a mirror leaning against a wall, and a straggler box sitting in front of our fireplace. And that’s just the living area. The upstairs is even worse. And I can’t even consider what our garage looks like or I might have a panic attack.

Granted, there were a million reasons this move was extra hard on us. We’ve never moved since having kids. A move out of state is ten times harder than a move across town. Micah had very limited time off from work since he took time off when Talitha was born this summer. I am in a crucial part of my grad school career {you know, the part where I apply for REAL jobs}, and I don’t really have time to be dealing with moving boxes. The list goes on and on. But when it comes down to it, the Russums are simply not good at moving. Stuff doesn’t get packed right. Or it doesn’t really get packed at all. Our things get broken. If you know me at all, this might surprise you because I am an insanely organized person. The problem is that I thrive on structure and when my structure gets disassembled and put into a moving truck, I get really overwhelmed. The chaos of moving is crippling to me and I become an avoider of piles and boxes, which makes the process even worse.

The way I see it, there are only two options:

A) Become a full-fledged minimalist and get rid of everything we own. This is very tempting right now.

B) Become rich enough to hire a moving company from start to finish on our next move. I will just have to keep avoiding these lingering boxes to work on job applications…

To all the Kates of the world, I applaud you. I respect you. I envy you. Teach me your ways or, better yet, come whip my house into shape.