This is a guest post by TallahasseeScene’s Chaise Bishop
If you asked me a month ago to give you a list of my least favorite things in life, it would have included math, the elliptical machine and bathing my cat.
However, in the last two weeks, a new terror has come screeching into the number one spot on that list. What is this atrocity you might ask?
Moving.
Two words can be used to describe my experience: “Holy shit.”
Before you decide that packing up is a good idea, you should know that this is no small task, but rather one of epic proportions. While boxing up load after load of accumulated nonsense, I faced what I will now refer to as the “emotional stages of moving.”
Stage One: Naïve Excitement
It’s finally over. You successfully completed your lease with your creepy roommate with whom you got stuck last year after all your gal pals moved into their sorority house, of which you weren’t a part of, making you the odd man out. Student Housing Solutions said they would pair you with “someone with similar interests.” What they didn’t tell you was that your roommate would grow weed via bedside table and eat curry dishes every Tuesday night. Your things may actually never smell the same again.
Now it’s a new school year and, lucky for you, your best friend can finally move out with you. You daydream about how cute your new place is going to be and ponder how much chevron you can possibly cram into a one tiny apartment. Moving seems like something you can quickly tackle with the help of all your friends. “Knock it out in a day” they said. Stage one is a blur of home shopping and excitement.
Stage Two: Reality Starts Creeping In
You tell yourself that you will first go through your belongings and get rid of all the junk.
Yeah. Okay. You give up all hope of that once you realize that virtually 96 percent of the shit you own is just that. Shit. You move on to the next idea of “organized packing” in which you will start days in advance, affording you the willpower and time to pack everything neatly into labeled boxes. For those of us who suffer from a sweet little acronym titled “OCD,” this is enough to make you want to voluntarily run into a burning building. Your anxiety starts to creep up as the reality of this task sets in. But, alas! You will not give up that easily. You play happy tunes and consume copious amounts of alcohol to keep your little packing fingers moving. This stage won’t last long.
Via: theocdlifestyle.net
Stage Three: What the F@#$ Did I Get Myself Into?
You tried. You put up a good fight, but procrastination has kicked your ass again. It’s 4 p.m. on Tuesday after your finals for summer classes. Your move in day is Thursday. The room you once had now looks like a rabid hyena was let lose in it. You find yourself in tears, sitting in the middle of the floor thinking, “How in the hell did it get here so fast and what could possibly be in all of these godforsaken boxes?”
You come across keepsakes from old boyfriends hidden in the shadows under your bed, which will further your emotional disposition. Your “organized packing” plan has now turned into the “just shove it somewhere that it fits” plan. You will spend the next 48 hours cramming things into boxes, duffels and plastic bags all while trying to come up with a creative way to get it all down three flights of stairs and into your tiny little compact car. Those friends who said they would help you move suddenly caught the bird flu or had to go see their brother who they hate. You’ll find that you spend the majority of your time here. Good luck, my friend.
Via: WordPress
Stage Four: The Nightmare Changes Places
After managing to make it across town without the contents of your underwear drawer spilling out across the street, you feel a slight bit of hope. However, while unpacking all of your things in the blazing summer sun you realize that you now get to relive the nightmare you just escaped from…in reverse. Nothing will fit right, the curtain rod you bought will be the wrong size and things will not match. Don’t even try to find something you need because the cardboard boxes will eat whatever is dear to your heart. At this stage, you are so worn out and stressed out that you wish you had some of that bedside table weed from your creepy ex-roommate.
Stage Five: Light at the End of the Tunnel
A few weeks will pass. A few fits will be thrown. The hysteria will subside. Suddenly, things start to come together. Your room actually looks like a human lives in it now. You get into the routine of the new house and you are enjoying your new roommate. What felt like the most agonizing thing you have ever experienced has now passed. Well, for a whole year, at least. So until next time, enjoy your new place! Throw a house-warming party. Reward yourself for all of the hard work you’ve gone through. And maybe…just maybe…you’ll be better prepared for next year as you once again navigate yourself through the emotional stages of moving.
Featured photo courtesy of: usstoragecenters.com
