If you’ve ever moved out of somewhere before, you’ll be able to relate…
Ever noticed that most things in life look a lot easier than they end up actually being? It’s true. My students are always looking at someone else doing something (that as an adult with much more life experience, I can recognize actually takes quite a bit of effort) and exclaiming, “man, that’s so easy!” Then they try it and quickly find it’s really not.
In anticipation of my move to Colorado this summer, I just moved (heartbreaking) home with my parents for a few months since our lease was up. This was a move I definitely was not looking forward to. Months ago I was already mourning my loss of independence and the ability to do whatever I damn well pleased on a daily basis. More recently, this past Friday I came home from work only to be reminded by the intense clutter surrounding me in my apartment that I had not packed a single thing yet, and was supposed to move the next day.
I started packing, and quickly came to the realization that was initially stated in this post. At first, I had somehow misplaced my memory and forgot how painful moving had been several times in the past, and thought to myself “I only live in a 2 bedroom apartment, there’s not that much stuff in here, this won’t be so bad.” What followed the next few days was a real-life comedy of errors.
First, I decided to drink a bottle of wine while I was packing, to numb the pain of losing my amazing apartment in the city, partnered with the death of my independence. This was a bad idea. I can’t remember what boxes contain what when I wake up the next morning. Oops.
Next, once I’ve rediscovered what is in what box and what needs to go to which location next, I realize I have far too many boxes and my dad and brother are going to kill me, seeing as they think they are coming over to ‘move a few larger items.’ Uh oh. Fingers crossed we survive the day.
Then, I discover that I have the wrong key to the storage unit I am supposed to put half of my stuff in. But it’s already been packed in the truck that I’m supposed to return tomorrow, and the people who have the correct key aren’t in town this weekend. Thank goodness for house sitters, or my dad would have lost it.
While I’m retrieving the correct key, my dad decides to not open the truck all the way while unloading my belongings in anticipation of my return to the storage unit. This results in him being careless and trying to finish things too quickly, and gashing his head on the truck door. My brother calls me from the storage unit as I’m being flipped off by a lady in a minivan to tell me that my father is bleeding from the head. It may not sound funny, but since it wasn’t really all that bad in the end, now we can all laugh about it (well, my brother and I can…my dad, not so much).
At this point, my seemingly simple one-day moved has promptly turned itself into what mirrored a situation the Dunfeys would get themselves into on Modern Family.
Lesson learned: never say something is going to be easy before you try it. If you anticipate that it will take work, you’re better off because you won’t underestimate the difficulty of a situation and then be disappointed because it turns into a comedy of errors. I’ve also learned that next time, I’m retreating back to hiring movers…and I will appreciate them!