Moving and The Fact That I Suck At It

I’m really bad at moving. This is a fact that has been brought up to me before by past roommates, who have left me (rightfully) angry messages informing me that I haven’t cleaned the little bits of paper from under my bed/left things under the bathroom sink/forgot things of mine in the fridge, etc. Yesterday, my parents and sister came to help me move the big stuff in, and my mom commented that they wouldn’t help me next time if I didn’t prepare the things they were going to bring for me.

So I have been made aware of my bad-at-movingness, but it was only today that I myself felt the actual consequences. After spending one last night in my single room, I packed up the rest of my things- sheets, pillows, rugs, fan, food, laptop, etc. First of all- how does all that add up to almost another full car load?! Secondly, moving out like a real, responsible person- i.e. actually checking the shower for things, making sure the room looks presentable and in general dustless, emptying my stuff from the fridge… Well, while I never did it consciously, my previous move-outs have always been done under the knowledge that if I forgot something, my roommate/friend would be able to give it to me. Not so this time. No friends were living with me to scoop up my left-behind-but-still-not-empty shampoo or to say they certainly don’t mind taking the Nutella home with them. Nope- all me.

I think I got everything out of the room and the house, and even remembered to leave the key, which I figured I would definitely forget to do. It was actually kind of sad to leave my little room and the little puppy that could tell I was going. I said goodbye to my landlord and her partner and that was bittersweet and then I packed up the car and left.

I was again reminded that this part of the move was all me was when I was rolling a cart back and forth to the really-far-from-my-building guest parking lot with my two loads (two?!) of  stuff. But eventually I got everything into my room/the fridge/the pantry and all is good. I haven’t decorated or anything yet, but my bed is made and it has pillows on it and I’m drinking a diet Coke, so all is well.

(Also, can I say how strange it is to have my childhood bed and dresser in this new place?)

I did it, guys- I found my first apartment on my own, I moved into it with my family’s help, and, oh, didn’t I mention it earlier? I GOT ANOTHER JOB!

(More on that later 🙂 )

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