My big move out of my parents house and into my own, took place last month and what seemed like a fairly simple process quickly turned into a long enduring marathon called Where did all this crap come from?
Back in late November my boyfriend bought a house and the plan was that I was going to move in either February or March.
If anyone has ever gone through that faze of not quite living with each other, but staying over at your significant others house all the time, you will know where I am coming from.
Basically, your original home (my parents house) and your significant others place (his apartment) are neither one of your “homes”. You now live out of your car. You car is essentially your new closet. You are spending almost all your time at your significant others house, and you don’t always have time to make the trip to drive back and grab more of your things. So instead what you do is you load up your car with a bunch of crap – lots of clothes (you don’t have laundry facilities so you better be giving yourself options), shoes (same goes, you need a variety! Want to go to the gym? Well you will twist an ankle running in sandals. Want to go out for a romantic date? Well you look stupid wearing rain boots) and finally your miscellaneous things that you use; laptop, cozy slippers, iPod and water bottle for the gym, lunch bag for work and re-useable containers….
Before I knew it, I was a bag lady and one step up from pushing around a shopping cart; instead I had my trusty old Mazda 3 hauling around my things.
Bonus to living out of your car – You are ready for any serious weather evacuations!
Tornado coming? I’ll outrun it in my trusty Mazda 3! Wild fire that can’t be tamed? No problem, I’m already packed! Lets hit the road and beat the traffic.
Now you’re probably thinking, that’s pretty great, but is it worth it? And before you jump to conclusions – I’m not done listing the bonuses!!
Want to have a nice toned body without having to pay the costs of joining a gym? It’s your lucky day! You will be hauling your crap all over the place that you will be so strong after lifting about 4 bags a day that are so over-stuffed that every step you take your leg keeps bumping the bags, causing the weight to shift in your shaking arms that are losing circulation very quickly due to the weight of the straps pulling on your skin – But this is just part of the experience! Soon those arms that flapped in the wind will be nice and toned and everyone will be asking what your secret is!
Now lets fast-forward from my body building days to the moving process.
Everything seemed well planned out. I was going to pack a few bags of clothes, and small miscellaneous things, take it over to the house, finish up painting the bedrooms, and then do the big move once the bedrooms were all painted. Sounds easy right?
We finished painting the 2 bedrooms; first the master bedroom, then the spare bedroom and I’m exhausted but feeling like a proud homeowner admiring my artistic abilities of being one with the paintbrush.
At this point I have been painting nonstop with my boyfriend trying to get everything done. We go to work, come home, eat and get at it. Usually we finished painting at midnight and then would go to bed and the day would repeat. After a solid week or so living this lifestyle, we were done! Everything was painted and looked great. At this point I was thinking it would be a great time to lie down and take a break, but I was on a mission to get everything completed.
That weekend I went to my parents place to grab my belongings and thats when it hit me – I’m actually moving out. Hello waterworks! Trying to pack when your eyes are blurry from tears is not something I recommend. I didn’t even know what I was grabbing, and things were ending up in unusual locations, and all that meant was re-packing. So instead I did what any sensible person would do – stopped packing and instead started to reminisce about life. I highly do not recommend that if you are trying to stop crying, to think about this: This night will the last time I will ever sleep at my parents house in my own room, in my bed.
Lets just say that night was a complete write off, and nothing got done.
Morning of, I wake up and think how I need to be ready for the truck in 5 hours and my room is untouched. A women on a mission, I kick it into overdrive and begin to pack my little heart out. The packing process for small keepsake items goes fairly smooth, and then it’s time to hit the closet – and thats when all hell breaks loose. I am finding clothes that I didn’t even remembered I owned. The clothes keep coming, and there is no more bags to put them in. I start grabbing garbage bags. Before I know it, I have filled 3 garbage bags in addition to the other bags I have packed. Suddenly my closet has become the Chronicles of Narnia Wardrobe and I can’t find the end of it.
Out of curiosity, I decided to count how many items I owned.
Please enjoy the following data:
# of Bra’s: 23 – I usually just rotate between 4.
# of Sweaters: 61 – Sweaters are my favourite thing. However, this number seems a little aggressive…. but everyone likes options…. right?
# of Tops: 108+ – I lost track counting and gave up. But I was near the end!
Apparently the novel Confessions Of A Shopaholic is actually based on a true story.
Hours later I have bags galore, all over-stuffed and clothes are over-spilling with every step I take. The truck arrives and we pack the truck. My car has majority of the clothes already inside because I haven’t yet figured out how my boyfriend is going to react when he sees it all and I tell him that there won’t be room for his things, and he will have to hang his clothes outside in a bag.
The move is now over but now I need to find room for all my things. As I sort my items I’m astonished at how much I have. Where did it all come from? Surely, it can’t all be mine!
After the 4th bag is unpacked I decide that someone needs to stage an intervention for me.
At this point, I am going slightly crazy. I have so much crap, and I still have more bags in the car. My side of the closet is almost completely full and so is my wardrobe. At this point I’m wondering if my boyfriend would actually notice if I snuck in a few shirts at the top bar that we decided would be his. I quickly try to shove some shirts up there when I hear his footsteps coming as I am in mid jump trying to reach the top bar. I then decide this will never work. The hassle of jumping every morning to pull down a top will get tiresome. The boyfriend is now in the bedroom asking if I am almost done and want to watch a movie. Suppressed tears start to emerge and he is looking at me as if he is beginning to wonder what he got himself into. I blurt out how I have more bags in the car and don’t know what to do. He looks at me calmly and walks over to the wardrobe and says “hey it’s okay, look! You have all of this!” and then he makes the mistake of opening it and sees all the sweaters stacked up and it’s almost completely full. I then look at him with my puppy eyes and say “Babe, can I have another drawer?”
Babe wasn’t quite as understanding as I was hoping. He told me it looks like I have a problem and need to get rid of some things.
Ok. Way easier said than done! Do people not think I haven’t thought of that?? I have tried! But it’s nearly impossible. Everything fits, still looks good on, I can’t just donate items that I would still wear! That’s crazy!
The sensible solution was to just take over the guest bedroom, use the closet for extra storage, and the dresser! We never have guests anyways!
Here I am, all moved in, no more bag lady, and my car is now capable to hold passengers! Things really have come full circle.
Now next on the list, is to finish decorating and put our (my) mark on our new home!