Moving Day is tomorrow. I should explain, what an absolute ass Moving Day makes me. I grump out like no other. I moved out of my parents house when I was 20 and I am turning 30 next month. This is my 9th move. All you genius' out there can average that out. I've done a lot of moving. You would think I'd have this shit down to routine. You'd think...
I think I'm especially pissy about this move because it's to another apartment. I should be grateful we'll have our own space, but being in apartment means that there is another move in sight. Yeah, I'm already anticipating the next one. Part of me says, "We'll spend the next year really taking our time looking at houses". Other part of me says, "O hell no. You're staying there for 2 years. NO MORE MOVING".
This is where my gypsy/free spirit alter ego is in paradox. I love to be in new surroundings, I love to nest, and don't get me wrong TRAVELLING is totally my "thing". But moving house is fucking exhausting. I am too much of a nester in that regard. Too many objects.
I am looking forward to unpacking this go round because I haven't seen the majority of my stuff in over a year. That's a long time! So I am going to unpack slowly, methodically, and try and really organize the crap out of, well, our stuff. We'll see how that goes with a toddler.