May 13, 2007

The Hate of Moving

I hate moving. This is a self-realization that I stumbled upon in the 4th grade as I tearfully departed from the only home I had ever really known and loved for the great unknown of New York. This loathing for the process was rekindled upon my return to Cincinnati and then actualized and enshrined in my heart sometime during the nearly two dozen moves I either made myself or partook of during my 4-year stint at LeTourneau.
While I am not a small or feeble man, it should be noted that I've never been a big fan of unnecessary physical exertion. To make matters more unpleasant, I am something of a pack rat and a disorganized slob. These things tend to come together to take moving experiences from the normal loathesome to uncharted depths of "pain in the hind end"... but the simple fact of the matter is, no matter how much of a minimalist any of my friends are, packing up all of their worldly goods into boxes and lugging them from one place to another is just a generally unfulfulling experience.
To paraphrase Chris Rock, however, let's think of the positive side of moving, all of the good things that have been brought into our lives because of moving. In my case, I believe that includes just about every piece of furniture I have ever owned, less a bed and some shelves: I have them because someone else was moving and either didn't have room for the furniture at their new place or simply didn't feel that the furniture in question was worth the labor/expense of moving and would be better replaced than moved. So while my friends, family and self should stop moving, anyone who doesn't want my help or whants to pay me copious sums of money to help them moving should feel free to scurry from place to place like a confused hermit crab.
For those who are curious as to what brought this on: my arms are sore, my hands are blistered, my feet ache and my back is sending the distress signals that could only mean that I must have helped someone move yesterday. And while I'm sure that I owed them for their help moving me into my current digs, I consider the debt more than repaid. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll be venting the angst and pain from yesterday's experience by writing up a "preparations that you'd best make for moving if you want the Cynic to help and not break your arms."

Posted by Vengeful Cynic at May 13, 2007 10:23 PM | TrackBack