Moving

I have a love/hate relationship with moving. It's mostly a hate relationship, really. Granted, this is only the third time in the last 6 years that I've had to move, yet I dread it each and every time (Contrast that with a friend of mine who has moved SIX times in the last 6 years. And that doesn't count her pending 7th move in a few weeks).

I hate having my stuff, and therefore my life, thrown into upheaval while I pack everything into boxes. I hate having to ask people to help me move because I'm still in my cheap, poor student mentality (you would be too if your salary for the last 6 months had been below the poverty line). I hate the anxiety I get because of these things. This is singularly the most stressful thing I can think to do. Besides maybe singing in front of an audience. Or attempting to drive (my most recent experience resulted in sweaty palms and me yelling, THERE'S A CAR BEHIND ME! Rest assured, that given my age, it is quite embarrassing to admit that I have only a learner's permit. I won't get into the story behind it).

Blood, sweat, and tears? You bet! Last time I moved, all three were involved, simultaneously at some points (my cat may or may not have been stepped on in the process as well. I think he is still traumatized). I am  dreading moving my (lovely, comfy) sofa because it WILL require taking my door off its hinges to fit it through ... and then ... getting it down the stairs? Oh, God, I'm getting terror sweats just thinking about it.

On the other hand, moving to another city gives me the opportunity to purge. I am only moving the things I really need (and only some of that will actually be coming with me to Ottawa since ladylaptop invited me to move in with her :D). James Hetfield bobblehead? Class notes from CEGEP (yes, I AM that big of a nerd)? Not so much. My extensive liquor cabinet (keep in mind I currently live alone)? HELL YES!

Sorry, James, you won't be rocking out with me in my new home.

However, I will be drinking in new home. 

I can't really say I enjoy sorting through my stuff, but it will feel good to pare down the copious amount of stuff that I own. Note the tense of the previous sentence. Because, yeah, I am leaving in 5 days and I currently have one box packed. What can I say? I procrastinate. Hence, the stress. It's a vicious cycle. 

Guess I should get packing? 

Sigh.