Another Moving Tale

By | June 23, 2015

Moving. I’ve done it, and blogged about it. Over, and over, and over, and over. (and over? Feels like I missed an entry somewhere along the way.)

Ad nauseum.

Well guess what? I’m going to blog about moving again! Luckily, I plan to live here for a couple years, so these entries should become fewer and farther between.

Good thing, because it’s exhausting to move.

Moving Piles

Moving Piles

When is the last time you moved? What are your experiences with it? Jump to the bottom of this entry and let me know.

This moving experience was different than previous ones for two specific reasons:

  1. I had 10 days of being homeless in between moving out and moving in.
  2. I actually had furnishings to move.

Packing to move—not just small things, but also tables and chairs and other big pieces of furniture

You may see a gigantic problem with item #1 and item #2 being together. Having furnishings and being homeless means having to store said furnishings during said homeless period, then having to move them again once new apartment is available.

No problem at all! The previous tenant of my new apartment was a friend of my previous roommate and graciously allowed me to store all my furnishings in his [my new] garage while he himself prepared to move out of his [my new] apartment.

The real problem was that he did not graciously allow me to sleep on his couch for 10 days. I would have to figure that one out on my own.

What does one do when one finds oneself homeless?

Sleep on the beach? Beg a friend for exceptional hospitality? Pretend to “work late” and crash at the office?

You know this girl—I decided to take a trip!

To Alaska I went, to see my brothers, their wives, and kids.

"Point at your favorite animal!" - My Alaskan family members respond to the cue.

“Point at your favorite animal!” – My Alaskan family members respond to the cue.

(More on the Alaska trip next time.
For now, let’s focus on the moving portion of the story.)

My roommate packed up all her stuff and left on a Saturday morning in late May. She was flying across the country, bringing only a couple suitcases of clothes and small items.

I was staying in California, moving my complete household (sans roommate) across town. Besides more clothes, I had accumulated multitudes of other goods. Furniture (including a couch) dishes, kitchen appliances, stacks of papers, food—perishable and non, bedding, pictures, Tupperware, and lots and lots of other things that had to be packed into boxes and transported to the new place.

Living alone again was going to be amazing, but it takes almost as much stuff for one person to live as for two, so there was a lot left over for me to pack and move even after my roommate vacated the apartment!

Packing, cleaning, packing, cleaning. That was my life for the last few days of May. The big push happened on May 29th and 30th. Everything had to go to the garage, a couple things had to be sold, given away, or trashed, and the final parts of the apartment had to be cleaned.

A few dishes were broken in the move.

A few dishes were broken in the move. Oops!

Finally everything was as though I had never been there. (Humongous thanks to Big G, Blonde and Brunette Megans, Marik, and the other friends who helped me in all phases of this process.)

Phase II—Homeless to Settled

I took my trip to Alaska, returned on a Thursday afternoon after a sleepless red-eye flight to haul boxes from the garage into my new apartment. I took a break to go to Thursday night salsa, and left again early Friday morning for a weekend camping trip.

What better way to ignore everything you have to do than to go camping!

What better way to ignore everything you have to do than to go camping!

I got home from camping early Sunday afternoon, showered quickly in my new apartment (sans shower curtain), and left fifteen minutes later for Sunday Salsa in Santa Cruz.

I returned home Sunday night too exhausted to do anything but lay down in my bed that was haphazardly set down in the middle of my bedroom and fall dead asleep until work the next morning; although I now live just a 5-minute walk away, I still managed to be 40 minutes late for work—understandable (if not quite excusable) after the whirlwind of activity I put myself through.

Those next few days, however, I finally became a responsible adult and got to work finding places for things and putting things in their place.

Moving furniture... What a pain.

Moving furniture… What a pain.

By Friday, almost everything was taken care of, and I had a nice house warming party to kick off my new life in my new apartment.

Now What?

I love it here! The apartment is a good size for me, and so far I’m thoroughly enjoying making it into a home for myself.

Now that I’m pretty much settled, it’s time to take stock of the other pieces of my life and figure out where to go from here.

This includes:

  • Wardrobe
  • Exercise regime
  • Morning routine
  • Outdoor activities
  • Projects at work
  • Blogging/Business ideas
  • Plus more…

How to both set a standard and shake it up a little bit to keep it from getting stale?

Those are my challenges to come.

Stay with me as I delve into some of these a little bit more.

Thoughts? Moving horror stories? Anything you’d like to share? Comment below, please.

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