Since the dawn of time, man has been plagued with the burden of moving. Whether it was a caveman moving his family to a nicer, bigger cave after getting a promotion to assistant cave manager or settlers deciding to pack up their sh*t and hit the bricks thanks to a neighboring cannibalistic tribe, people had a wide range of reasons for relocation. This painful task still remains a prevalent practice today. People move for work, they move to be closer to family, they move to remote areas of New Hampshire to avoid DEA detection. All pretty valid reasons.
Yours truly is no exception. I’ve found myself in a position where I must pack up all my worldly possessions and dump them off somewhere else. Unfortunately, I will not be moving back in with my parents. Despite several attempts, I was disappointed when my dad repeatedly told me that that wouldn’t be “socially acceptable” for a 29-year-old to move back in with his mom and dad. He never was much of a progressive thinker.
During the multiple occasions when I have had to move, I’ve found there are several stages one goes through during this process.
Stage #1: Excitement
When you initially make the decision/are forced into the position to have to move, it is actually pretty exciting. You get to experience a new and exciting place where you will be able to re-decorate (if you’re into that) and take advantage of all the things this foreign place has to offer. It just feels like an opportunity to spice up your life and do something different. This is by far the best phase, and it can last anywhere from a few hours to a few weeks depending on when the move is to take place.
Stage #2: Depression
“Awww [insert sad face emoji], I really loved this place. It was home, and I have so many memories here.” As the first phase wears off, you begin to realize how much you will miss your old dwelling. You threw some great parties, you learned how not to burn everything you cooked, you neglected to clean the bathtub for the entire two years you lived there, etc. These are special times that you had in this place, and they will forever hold a spot in your heart.
This phase of course is dependent on the assumption that you didn’t completely hate the place to begin with. If that’s the case, then you can skip this stage.
Stage #3: “How did I accumulate so much crap?”
When the nostalgia starts to fade and you begin to pack, reality shows its face and punches you right in the tummy. You look around your apartment and you are simply baffled by the amount of stuff you’ve collected over the course of your time there. And most of it truly is junk. But if you’re anything like me, it’s difficult to separate yourself from some of the useless crap. “I dunno, what if I gain a hundred pounds in the near future, and I need that XXL t-shirt I got for free at the Rangers game?” It’s uncertainties such as these that make the move all the more difficult.
Stage #4: Anger
When the official day to move arrives, you will become angry. You will have to make about a million trips to and from your new place, and you will find a seemingly infinite amount of crap at your old residence that you forgot to pack or didn’t pack correctly. It is exhausting and it will frustrate the bejesus out of you. Even though you may think you’re on top of things and are in good shape come moving day, you are wrong. If you sit there and try to tell me that everything was absolutely ready to be transported when the movers showed up, you are a silly-assed liar. I truly believe that no matter what amount of time or effort you put in prior to the move, it is a physical impossibility to be completely prepared for moving day. It is just a law of nature. This attempt at preparation is a fruitless gesture, and you may as well sit around and eat Cheetos and watch TV instead.
Stage #5: Emotionless Zombie
At some point during the anger stage, you will suddenly transition into an emotionless zombie. You’ve been packing, lifting, and carrying stuff for several hours now, and your ability to function like a normal human will cease to be. Things will break. Things will get a lost. A mover will fart near you when trying to lift something heavy. And you just won’t care. This phase puts the “emo” in “emotionless.”
Stage #6: Screw it
When the movers are finally gone, and you are left all alone with your boxed up crap and out-of-place furniture, you will have about forty seven minutes of effort left to make any real progress. You will open a box and get distracted with an old picture of yourself as a fat kid with a bowl cut, let out a sigh, and say a four letter word followed by the word “it.” You’ll call up a friend and ask him to go get a bite to eat and have a drink or two. After eating twenty or so wings and polishing off your fourth pitcher at Hooters, you will head back to your new home and pass out on your rug from shear exhaustion…and the things you consumed at Hooters.
Stage #7: Finish Unpacking
So, this phase never actually ends. I’ve lived in this apartment for two years, and I am still finding things that I never unpacked. Just yesterday, I discovered a cabinet in the kitchen that I didn’t even realize existed and found a package of hand towels that I’d never used. The point is that nobody is ever truly finished unpacking. Ever.
And there you have it. This is what I have to look forward to in the coming weeks, and I couldn’t be more thrilled. Remember this for the next time you find yourself in a relocation situation. I doubt it will actually help in any way shape or form, but at least you will understand what you’re going through and that you are not alone.
Wish me luck!