Moving time

Sunday’s workout: Active rest day; morning walk to market, started moving.


The time has arrived.

I have officially begun the move out of my little apartment that I love and into Jon’s apartment… that is about to become our apartment.

Since the two places are only around the block from each other, it’s a pretty simple move. I don’t think we’ll even get a truck. Just a gazillian car loads back a forth, looking something like the above picture.

No, not really. That’s an exaggeration. And quite dangerous.

In general, I loathe moving. I hate packing.

But this move is different.

For one, I’ve been at his place working on wedding stuff most evenings for several weeks now… so I’m looking forward to not having to walk home after finishing the day’s project. For two, I have been finding more creepy crawlies than normal in my place, and no matter how tough I pretend to be, finding a cricket chilling on my clothes hangers does not work for me. And three, because it’s so close, I’m not really packing. More like tossing stuff into bins and attempting to put is somewhere that makes sense at his/our apartment.

Plus, this is one of more momentous moves in my life. Because, you know, it will be me and my husband’s first place together. Lord almighty….

The frustration is that Jon’s roommate won’t be out until Aug. 4th or 5th. So that’s us, plus my sister–in–law who arrives on the first, plus roommate, plus possibly his girlfriend. With most of my stuff taking over a corner of the living room. While roommate will hopefully be packing to move out. So me unable to set up or unpack much of my stuff until we get back. While I go back to work right away upon returning.

Nope, not us. Add some sweat and grumpiness.

Jon and I are both pretty clean people. We don’t operate well in clutter, much less the chaos that will be our house.

Conclusion…. as easy as some aspects of this move are, the additional complications make it no fun. At all.

I hate moving.

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