Thinking Inside the Box: Packing Up

There are few things as fundamental and as frustrating to the human experience as moving. When I was a kid, my parents had lived in the same house for their entire marriage, and they had no interest in living anywhere else and happily commuted quite a distance to work every day. It was simply their home, and that was where they belonged.

Going off to college was my first experience packing myself up and preparing to live somewhere else. Like most people, I took way too much stuff, and my dorm room freshman year was so tightly crammed that trying to get from one side of the room to the other was about as easy as performing brain surgery on an over-caffeinated, non-anesthetized howler monkey.

As the years passed I got better and better at packing, eventually condensing my life into a suitcase and a mid-sized box. Then, once I got married, I got the full moving experience, taking not just clothing but furniture to boot. Thankfully my wife was there to inform me that some of the more "embarrassing" articles I owned would "in no way" be moving with us to the new apartment. Dear sweet woman; always there to save me from myself.

So in the past 7 years I have packed up and moved 7 times, and I'd like to think I'm getting quite good at it. This time however, my skills were challenged to the utmost.

Whenever we've needed to move in the past, my parents and my sister have all been there with eager faces (though I'm sure there's plenty of grumbling when we aren't around) and strong backs (except for my dad, who should probably be featured in medical textbooks as the man with a bionic back). My family has always loaned us their craft trailer, which we always manage to just fit everything into and get the doors to close. That was when we were moving around within the state though, this time that wasn't going to work.

My dad determined that with the price of gas it just wasn't reasonable for them to haul the full trailer halfway across the country and then an empty one back again. Also, since there are rather large mountains in the Eastern United States, they feared that the truck might not be able to make it up, and that rolling backwards back down a mountain, while making for a fun story to tell the grandkids, is not the most stress-relieving of experiences. No, instead we would get a U-Haul trailer, and it would be dropped off once we got to our new home. Fair enough, let the games begin.

Unfortunately, when the trailer arrived we were in for quite the surprise. The device which would convey all our worldly goods was less than half the size of the trailer we traditionally use.

The trailer that we have always filled to capacity.

On the spot we began to assign our possessions status rankings, and decided what essential items would be coming with us. We elected to go ahead and pack our clothes and dishes, seeing as how eating and not strutting about naked are both mildly important to the further existence of the species. We also managed to pack all of our end tables and nightstands, even though they all had to be horribly cannibalized in order to fit into the tiny nooks and crannies.

Some things were left behind however, and my niece is now the (not so proud) new owner of a beat up computer desk, a stained chair, and a microwave that insists on beeping at you ad infinitum until you come and take out whatever Hot Pocket or bag of popcorn you happened to throw in there. My mother was reunited with the hideous couch we had poached from her when we got married, and you would have thought she won the lottery. She believes that couch to be the most beautiful and comfortable thing ever created, while the rest of us see it as little more than a stiff eyesore. My former roommate described the thing best when he said, "I think that just looking at it has given me cancer… again." At any rate, she got her couch back, we had a convenient excuse to buy something less offensive, and everybody went home happy.

I'm pleased to report that after much stuffing, arranging, hoping, and praying; we managed to get almost all of our stuff into the trailer and the back of my father's truck. A few things did get left behind however, and we are currently negotiating a hostage exchange of my mother's book of Sudoku puzzles in return for my wife's sweaters. We need to get this deal done soon though, once the weather turns cool again this fall they hold the leverage.

As I look back on the experience, a simple truism comes to mind, a little thought that fills me with happiness and puts the whole fiasco into perspective.

Next time we do all this, we can always just hire a moving company and let them deal with it.

Leave your thoughts here. (7 responses)

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C in DC

May 7th, 2008 at 9:53 am

I've been lurking on your blog for a couple of months now. Thanks for writing interesting posts. They're useful even to those of us who aren't millenials. (I'm an Xer.)

I too did 7 moves in 7 years with my spouse. All but one were cross-country or cross-oceanic. There's a certain amount of skill involved in packing efficiently. I learned to use sheets and towels to pack dishes (nice padding and environmentally friendly). Space bags are great for compressing clothing, pillows, etc. (perhaps a way to retrieve the sweaters?). Put stuff back in drawers once you've loaded furniture on teh truck. Above all, if you do use movers, be nice to them. Annoy your movers and they can lose or damage your stuff. I've seen this happen.

Good luck with your move. I look forward to reading of your further adventures.

Patrick

May 7th, 2008 at 10:29 am

One, I agree, as a recently (ok 4 years ago) graduated College student, I've moved way too many times, the most recently was moving in with my girlfriend which meant condensing all our things during the heat wave of 2006. We have both agreed that we are never moving ourselves again, and that some moving company is going to be very rich when next we decide to relocate, and this includes moving within our current city.

Secondly, I found your series title quite relevant to this post especially.

Now the next fun part for you is the unpacking, something that seems to take forever, good luck in the new place.

Patrick

Dorie

May 7th, 2008 at 11:30 am

Brad,

Haha. I lived in 6 different houses before I was 12. I remember getting to a point as a kid where I would hoard things because I truly believed that if I had too much stuff, my mom would just get frustrated packing and give up on the plan to move. Sadly, that never panned out and she threw my things away instead.

My husband on the other hand has lived in the same house his entire life. I keep telling him that I have one, maybe two moves left in me. He seems to think that moving seems glamourous and plans to move from house to house every 2 or 3 years (after we buy our first home).

I'm hoping your post will help me to convince him that this really isn't the best of plans.

David

May 7th, 2008 at 9:09 pm

I agree with you whole-heartedly!

I've always said that moving days are the worst days of a person's life. I can only imagine what its like to move halfway across the country…

Hows the job search coming?

Louise

May 8th, 2008 at 2:14 am

Why didn't your wife's new job pay for relocation? One of the joys of moving as a working professional is having a paid team of movers come in, pack up your stuff, move it and unpack it in the new location. Completely painless!

Trust me! I also moved myself about 9 times in 10 years as a student and graduate student and one of those moves was abroad.

Rachel

May 8th, 2008 at 8:15 am

Moving is absolutely the pits. I moved about six times in college, and then my parents (bless their hearts) drove me and all of my crap to DC right after graduation. It was NOT a fun drive with the UHaul trailer, so I feel your pain. I'm surprised my parents still speak to me after that trip!

Since living in DC, I have moved a grand total of 8 times in five years. I hate moving so much I want to stay in my current place forever!!

Welcome to DC!

Brad H.

May 8th, 2008 at 9:22 am

Hey everybody, thanks for sharing your tales of moving woe. We're hoping that our next move is into a house, and that it doesn't come for a few years and that it is the final move we make for a long, long time. And Patrick I chuckled heartily at your point about the title of the column being particularly relevant this week. I hadn't noticed it myself but you're absolutely right.

As for my job status, the hunt begins next week. I have a little bit of money coming in from part-time work, and my wife's salary will cover the bills plus leave a little leftover, so there's no huge rush. Really, I'm scared of trying to drive out here during rush hour. I get road rage something fierce, and I'm pretty sure that if I try to drive anywhere it will result in teeth marks on the steering wheel.

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