You’d think that by moving at least once a year, I’d be good at this by now. Nope.
- You arrive at the new house and begin saying hello to everyone on the street, thinking they are your neighbors. They’re actually just strangers who now know you’re moving in, are a confused foreigner, and an easy target to rob.
- You haven’t eaten all day. You can’t eat at the new place because there’s no food. You can’t eat at the old place because it’s 25 minutes away and that would ruin your cleaning flow.
- You go out to eat, but don’t know many of the places in the area. You choose one, sit for 10 minutes, and realize there’s only one person working who hasn’t even brought over a menu yet. Not good enough. Get up and leave.
- Your nails are slowly being eaten away by scrubbing things and cleaning solution.
- Debilitating indecisiveness.
- You are scheming to find the best place to “dump” most of your unsorted garbage, (i.e. garbage mixed with “compost”, mixed with jars that have unidentifiable goo on it that you’re just not man enough to scrub it out.) Nova Scotia will not take your garbage unless it is perfectly distributed among many different sorts of bags, but only every other week. You have neither the time, nor patience for this BS. You rack your brain for apartment complexes with unlocked dumpsters.
- You left your garbage bags at the old house.
- You are happy to see you have just enough “safe” water to make one last cup of coffee at the old house. (You have spent hundreds on spring water because the tap water is contaminated with arsenic.) You then realize you only have decaf left in the house.
- And now you’re officially out of water.
- Good news: the toilet paper has already been moved to the new location. Break out the last roll of paper towels.
- This isn’t personal, it’s just a fact: other. people’s. shit. And moving all your shit into a spot their shit isn’t already residing.
- You go to the store for a few basic needs, but leave without: feminine products. Guess what happens on the way back to the new house? I don’t care that this is TMI.
- None of these homes are actually yours. After attempting to get settled at the new place, you must go back and scrub the old place, so the owner can continue using it as his “man cave.”
- Your plan to remain strong, healthy, and gluten-free are out the door by 4PM. Dairy Queen for dinner (emotional distress.)
- You are venturing into a week without cable and it’s still fall premiere season. Eek.
Have a lovely Sunday in your underwear at the house you own or apartment you rent.