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11:50 pm - Sat 9.11.2010
A Moving Experience

A Moving Experience
I moved last Sunday.

It's interesting how "set in stone" something can feel - like life in my old place, for example - and yet how quickly "set in stone" can change.

Haven't met anyone who actually enjoys moving, but as I've been telling people, the actual "Moving Day" on Sunday wasn't that big a deal; with Cary and Donald helping me, it was almost-but-not-quite fun.

(I was hugely grateful for their help, and not just in terms of hauling heavy shit; Cary rented the moving van, and drove said van, which would have made me very nervous, and he hooked up my electronics once we got them into the new place. And he and Donald both helped me figure out the most effective use of the space, something I don't feel is a particular strong suit of mine.)

But while the actual "Big Moving Day" wasn't that stressful, the week leading up to it...was.

In spades.

When Cary emailed (About a week in advance), to tell me he'd rented the van for four hours on Sunday, and that, if I had everything packed and ready, that should be more than enough time to get the bulk of the move done, I sort of panicked.

.(Sun 9/12/10)

Where was I...?

I found the week leading up to the move tremendously stressful, even though I don't really have that much crap (Though it wasn't feeling that way to me when I had to think about moving). I have a hard time systematically "getting things done", without going "off task" and getting distracted.

And somehow, even though Cary has never been this person, suddenly I was afraid he'd come on Sunday, see I'd gotten virtually nothing done on my own, and be really pissed off.

(For the record? In all the time I've known Cary - since 1984 - I can't recall that he's ever gotten "really pissed off" at me, though I'm sure I've certainly deserved it on a number of occasions).

I threw out stuff, I took stuff out to the giveaway area in the lobby, I took clothes to Goodwill, I sold a crate full of cds and dvds to Amoeba (Which is a great store, btw)...and I still felt overwhelmed by what was left.

And I felt terribly alone as a result; how nice it would have been to have someone helping me, helping me prioritize what to pack when, giving me good-natured grief about stupid, useless shit I wanted to hang onto, helping speed up the process so it didn't seem overwhelming and interminable, just someone to tell me that it was going to be okay, it was going to get done, so there wasn't any point in freaking out about it.

But it did got done - done enough, anyway - and I wrestled my hoarding instincts to a standstill (Thanks to a nearly-equal instinct to not work too hard if I can help it).

All-in-all, it was not exactly a happy period of time - In addition to stressing about getting the pre-moving done, I was feeling anxiety and angst over ponying up $1500 for a deposit and the first month's rent.

And any time I move, I always end up feeling a wave of nostalgia (and regret), as I come across photos and letters and assorted effluvia I haven't looked at since the previous time I moved.

But I'm here, in the new place, which was feeling, as I said on Facebook, "Like a weirdly personalized Comfort Inn" till just last night, when I thought to myself, "Okay, this is just where I am now..."

And I'm hoping I'll be able to stay here awhile, until and unless my fortunes take such a happy turn that I'll be looking for an apartment with - dare I even imagine such a thing? - a bedroom.

More later...


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