|Mar. 25th, 2008 08:04 pm I hate moving...|
But not for the reasons one would think a person generally hates moving.
Oh, who am I kidding? I hate moving for all of the generic reasons.
But aside from all the ordinary reasons one hates moving, I hate it for another reason: I’m a packrat.
When I moved from Oregon to Mexico, I took all the things I considered valuable, stuffed them in 2 or 3 boxes and shipped them off to the south and hoped for the best. I never really unpacked because I know me and I know that opening those boxes would be unleashing Pandora and today I was forced to let it out full force.
The last few days I moved what I considered the hardware: my bed, mattress, computer, speakers, bookcase, books, tv, etc. But I left my personal stuff, the hardest stuff to move, for later.
For instance, I keep in a bag all things Europe. My tickets to the museum
s I went to in Madrid, metro stamps from Barcelona and Prague. All I need to tell you is that I kept the toothbrush, gel, and even the last bottle of water I bought at the airport before I left the continent.
You may think it’s creepy, but looking at those objects, I’m immediately transported to a time I used it, when I bought it, how I felt, where I was going, and all things memorable.
Along with those boxes, I found valentines, invitations, birthday cards and notes. I found a letter from my grandma which almost put me to tears.
There were also thousands of movie ticket stubs I’ve collected since I was probably 12. About a fourth of those were probably collected sophomore/junior year when Megan and I would go to the movies every weekend.
And that’s what I hate. Just how emotional I get from looking at everything. So it takes me all day to go through just two boxes…because in order to go through those two boxes, I have to recap my life.
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