Soybomb’s Dislikes – Moving
July 13, 2008
Apologies for the lack of posts this past week. Instead of posting random rants about the latest sneakers, manga, etc., I’ve been working late and just finished up moving to my new place. Let me just say, outside of stapling copies for work, my least favorite thing could be moving. From beginning to end, there are no redeeming qualities to moving at all. None. Period.
Everything about moving is a hassle starting with finding the new place. In the NYC area, I can either shell out $4000 for a parasitic realtor to show me the “greatest/newest place on the market,” or I can place my trust in random craigslist ads and pray the stranger doesn’t stab me and harvest my organs. And once you find that perfect place, or most likely settle for a “it’s not that shitty for the price” place, you think things are going to get easier. Nope. Wrong.
Next comes the packing. I’ve moved every year for the past six years, and each year I say the same things “Why do I have so much stuff?” and “I’m definitely not buying anymore this year.” Obviously, I never follow through with my promises, and I end up with even more stuff. However, before you start packing you need boxes. I usually end up scouring the neighborhood stores or garbage bins like a hobo looking for boxes. With them in hand, you can finally begin moving your life into their new cardboard compartments.
Finally comes moving day, which I think is the worst part of it all. It feels like running a marathon with two left feet. You wake up at the crack of dawn to get the UHAUL truck, except when you get there you realize the rest of the city had the same idea. After waiting in line for 1hr, you have in your hands the keys to a tank. A UHAUL might possibly be the most dangerous thing a normal person could drive (for driver and pedestrian). After a couple near misses and a 20min parking job, you’re ready to start loading up the truck. Depending on how well you packed, this part could go smoothly. A couple of hours later, sweat-drenched and back aching, you’re ready to drive to your new fixer-upper. That’s when, sitting in your truck, you realize you have to move all stuff in the truck back out and into your new place, and think “Why am I doing this? My old place wasn’t that bad.”
Anyways, that’s my rant for the week. I’ll tone it down for my next post.