We all live for this moment.

We all live for this moment


Most of you probably think I am talking about falling in love, fulfilling a lifelong dream, mounting that towering summit, overcoming great odds, flat out winning at life.  I am here to bring you back down to reality, Skippy.  I am talking about moving.  Yeah, you read that right.  Moving.

So here is a statement that we can all get behind, and quite frankly if you can’t I don’t want to know you:  Moving sucks.  I am NOT talking about the adventure and thrill of moving to a new place, a new city, a new part of the country or the world, I am talking about the actual physical move.  The thing that makes you want to rip flesh from bones, eyes from sockets, bash your head on a wall…basically anything horrible, except actually moving all your crap from years and years of hoarding.

I am no stranger to moving.  I have moved my family multiple times throughout our lives together…unfortunately a trait I picked up from my dad…I’m a roamer, a wanderer, and explorer of sorts.  However, I keep forgetting about how much it sucks to pack up and move and then unpack and set-up a new home.  Yeah, I am not too bright.

We are just finishing up our 10th move in 25 years of marriage and this one may be the actual worst.  What’s funny is that we are only moving 2 streets over.  I’m happy with the home, I bought it 8 months ago and have been remodeling it ever since, so there is pride in this move – until we started moving.  Let me break it down for you as to why this move sucks beyond all sucky moving.

Kids 


Yup, I just went there. I love my kids, and they are of my own creation and I fully accept the blame.  However, I still expected more.  I envisioned my kids pitching in and lending a hand, joyfully.  Yeah, my expectation bar was set mildly too high…like Mt Everest compared to an ant hill in New Orleans too high.

Hey kids, don’t mind dad cursing and swearing as he tries to move couches, beds, appliances and only everything else by himself.  Oh no, you have a hurt wrist?  You stubbed a toe?  You are too sore from whatever thing you were practicing at school?  I am sorry, did I interrupt you “friend” time on GTA?  Dang, Fortnite had to be turned off because I was moving the TV?  I am so sorry for inconveniencing your sitting on your ass time, I’m in a bit of a hurry.

Downsizing


One of the great joys of this move is going from a 4600 sq ft home to a 2500 sq ft home.  I dreamed of glorious simplicity, a cleansing of the souls of sorts.  We were giving up a larger home for a home with a large yard, one filled with 9 fruit trees, a large garden, grape vines, raspberries, a large fire pit, a large patio, large lawn…I could go on.  Basically, it’s a perfect scenario for kids to play and enjoy.

This shouldn’t be a problem you say?  Ha, have 6 kids who think every McDonalds Happy Meal toy they have ever gotten is a cherished trinket to be handed down for generations to come.  Try taking one of my daughter’s 10,000 stuffed animals and see how many 5-gallon buckets you can fill with her tears.  How about a wife who can’t possibly part ways with those decorations or topiaries, end tables, chairs, sofa tables, buffets, you name it?

Apparently, there is more meaning and memories in those items than I could possibly fathom.  I mean who knew that vase was bought on the day she spoke with her mom about a friend who had just had an aunt whose neighbor’s dog passed away recently.  So yeah, much wailing and gnashing of teeth as I took a whole house worth of items to the thrift store…and I still have a whole house, and then some, worth of items!

Piano


The mere mention of this word sends shivers down my spine.  I wanted to pay someone to come and move this abnormally heavy noise-making device.  You’d have thought I mentioned buying a Lamborghini for each family member and extended family member and a house to go with it.  Okay, okay, I won’t spend the $200 and save myself the time and torture.  I mean what is moving without the subtle joy moving this monstrosity?  Oh, look at my smile, see how happy I am?

Let me sum up this moving of this P.I.A.N.O. in short order, here goes: F pianos, F the inventor of pianos, F Beethoven, F Amadeus, F Liszt, F my kids for wanting to play the piano, F my wife for making them play the piano, F ebony, F ivory, F Paul McCartney, F Stevie Wonder, F Billy Joel and his Piano Man song, and last, but not least, F Elton F’in John!

Weather


Last weekend it was sunny and warm and it truly felt like spring was in the air, I moved items with a skip in my step…I’m kidding, it sucked then too.  However, this weekend it decided winter was back in session and snow began to fall, and fall, and fall.  Ever tried hauling a damn piano through the snow?  Yeah, add that to the last paragraph.  Moving into a home with new carpet and tile and new paint and trim and all the clean freshness that comes from a new home is wonderfully refreshing…until you have strangers with muddy feet mucking though your home.  Luckily, I had plastic…it was to be used to conceal the body of the next child that complained, but it came in handy on the floor, and I’m not going to jail.

In Conclusion


To wrap this thing up, let’s circle back to the beginning. Moving sucks.  It really isn’t anything we live for, but it is something we live for.  That makes no sense you say?  Well, really it does, unless of course you are the weirdo that wants to live with mom and dad your whole life: you will end up moving.  No offense if you are that wierdo, I am not here to judge, weirdo.


So, my advice for all of you that will eventually move.  Hire out.  Don’t do a damn thing yourself.  Sit back and watch as strangers box up your stuff, load your stuff, unload your stuff, unbox your stuff, drink a cold beverage in front of them, flaunt your laziness.  Own that laziness.  Relish in that laziness…because really, you aren’t lazy at all: YOU ARE SMART, unlike me.

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