Thanks to our landlords who are selling the home we rent (and, clearly, don’t know that there is a special place in Hades reserved for people who make a military family move more than absolutely necessary), we are currently hanging out in the third circle of moving hell. Packing, packing, packing — moving on Tuesday.
Only this time no military movers with their swift taping, overzealous packing paper ways have my back. For the first time since my pre-military spouse days I am moving myself.
And it is not fun.
Never in my life have I been so grateful for military movers. Sure, they break my stuff – but let’s be honest, I break my stuff, too. Sure, they manage to misplace completely unpredictable items (seriously – how does one bread pan and nothing else disappear during a move?), but I lose stuff all the time.
What I’m saying is this: usually I like to complain about military movers. But right now I am viewing those fabulous folks with rose colored glasses. They daily do a job that, I’m now reminded, I absolutely loath.
As I wrap individual mugs and contemplate why, in the name of all that is good, we have oh so many books that we never even read, I have also been thinking about you people who prefer to move yourselves here and there across America. I have been thinking about you who time and again say to military movers “Go away. I’d rather pack my own undies.”
I’m sure you have your reasons. But from my spot on the rug in the bathroom where I have been sitting and crying on account of how much I hate this, I can’t really fathom what they are.*
So tell me – what is your moving style and why? Take our little poll and dish on your reasons below.
*For the record, I haven’t actually reached crying on the bathroom floor stage yet. But I can see that it is not far away. … Also not far away: the marriage counseling recovering from this move is sure to require.