I moved this weekend. It was fun. So fun. Definitely doing that again soon.
So here they are, the glorious seven stages of moving:
I don’t have that much stuff! After all, it is a tiny apartment. And it’s half empty anyway. How much could there possibly be? We’ll be done in no time!
Let’s just put everything out here in the open to see where to pack what. This is going to be the most organized move ever – oooh look at this thing that I didn’t remember I had!
How can I have that many things? Where did all these books come from? I never had anything to read, how is this even possible? And how will I ever fit all that into the boxes?
Whatever. Let’s just put the printer with the pans, it fits nicely in that box. Oh and the knives with these books, I can just wrap them in a pair of socks. Screw order, it just has to fit somehow.
Shit, shit, shit. The staircase is narrower than I thought. I’m never moving higher than the first floor ever again. Pivot! Pivot! PIVOT!
Yay! We did it! Everything is in the van! I’d get us some beers but I don’t think I can move. Let’s just sit here for a while, yes? Let’s ignore that we have to drive all this stuff away.
Praise heaven it is done! Getting everything out is easier than getting it in. Just leave the boxes all there I’ll clean up later. Or tomorrow. Definitely someday.