Packing Sucks, Moving is Depressing

locked out for the duration

kitchen

ugh.

There is one truth in life that holds true for everyone (I think), and that is: Packing sucks and moving is depressing. No matter how much you might want to move, no matter how happy and excited you are to move, packing still sucks and moving is still depressing. Why that is is easy to explain. One, it's hard and hurts your back. Two, you have to look over and touch all of your belongings and then think about all the things that have happened in past, and all the memories, good and bad, confront you in the form of actual physical items. Perhaps it's just me, but each item I own has a history that stays silent in the dusty quiet depths of my mind until the day that I start packing, then my mind is like a still pond that has been invaded by a crowd of small children, whose little feet kick up all sorts of sediment that then hangs in the once clear green water. That is exactly how my head is at the moment. Full of big swirling clouds of grayish brown sediment. I'm doomed to endure this sediment for at least two weeks, until I get settled in to my new place and I buy a bed and bookshelf and a dresser. And then the sediment might clear a little bit, and my mind might once again be a clear green pool.