Moving.

If I had to create a list of things I hate doing I think moving would easily be right near the top, next to jogging and eating Cool Whip. I hate packing things into boxes, I hate toting bins of crap up and down narrow twisting stairways, I hate dumping old monitors and mattresses off in the middle of the night, I hate going through tangled messes of wires and cables, I really just hate everything about moving and I don’t think the payoff is worth the trouble.

But I guess you can only stay in one place for so long and for a person like me that has moved many, many, many, many times in my short life you would think that it wouldn’t bother me but it’s just something I’ll never get used to. Just like if I found myself discovering dead bodies all the time, I wouldn’t get used to that either.

But here I am, sitting at work typing up my entry for the day because tonight I’ll be busy trying to move the entire contents of my bedroom closet into a dumpster outside. If I could I’d throw away everything I own outside of my electronics, furniture, and clothes but I keep finding stuff I’ve forgotten about and I end up putting it right back into a box for storage because I apparently need to hang on to it until I die. It’s just like keeping old emails except something tells me I have less storage space then Google.

Anyways, in the end the extent of my hatred for moving is irrelevant, it has to be done. But I thought I’d share my thoughts (and pain) on the process.