Moving is so messy! First step, release pure chaos by pulling everything out that you forgot you owned. Next, wear it, play with it, and — oh wait, was I supposed to be packing?

That first round of moving is the most fun for me. If I’ve lived somewhere for years, there is more to discover and giggle about. Past me wore such silly hats! I must wear them and stack them and make art of them! There are fun outfits to be found. I unearth old treasures and box them up with care or put them in a place of honor while I continue packing. The first round of packing is the “discovery and delight” part of moving.

As the organization slowly comes together in boxes and bags, you grow a little smug with your accomplishments. And then, it suddenly all crashes down on you, as you realize you haven’t even tackled the bedroom, kitchen, or bathroom yet. The packing becomes a slog. Only Sisyphus (and the millions of others moving house at that very moment) know your suffering. Somehow, it is a suffering I forget. Despite the many moves I have done.

Not even my favorite dance music can save me from this part of the move. I stop loving the things I love. My feelings all drain away. I find food in the back of the shelves I moved over from the last apartment. I feel both shame and maniacal glee as I empty their contents into the compost. I wonder why I have so many supplements. I realize I burn a lot of my favorite cookware. No matter how many boxes I fill, I feel like I’m sinking in an unending mess of things. Somehow there is still more stuff in the cabinets and drawers. Somehow I still haven’t even packed anything from the bathroom. I pack a box and close it. I pack a box and close it. I pack. I pack. Oh Sisyphus! Only you know my suffering!

Then the moving truck and the furniture and boxes go. And the house is empty. You wonder who lived here and what they were like…

At your new home, you set up your bed first, because damn do you need nap! You wake up at your new home and spend hours trying to make coffee, because you simply are not as organized as you thought you were. And the coffee making supplies somehow ended up in multiple boxes. Nothing can happen before coffee.

Needless to say, I am looking at rooms full of boxes, sipping coffee after hours trying to prepare it from rudimentary materials and I still haven’t found the silverware or the dish soap.

Good fortunes to all of you out there currently packing and moving. Like most craft projects, let the spark of creativity (and chaos) fuel you to the end. And if that doesn’t last, slog along like Sisyphus who thought himself quite crafty and was punished with endless labor. Only know that, your suffering does have an end, probably somewhere on the other side of coffee in your new home.

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