Yesterday was moving day, also commonly known as Hell Day or Stick A Fork In Me Day. Given that this is our third move in less than 3 years, I am now experienced in the field. Yet, that experience has failed to translate into the fun and easy moves that we all crave. Instead, they remain tests of physical and emotional endurance as the contents of one house is placed into boxes and another house is filled with dozens of hours of anticipated unpacking.
We were fortunate this time because Karin's mother volunteered to come to California to help with the move. She brought with her some muscle (George) and her own considerable experience with moving. My mother also volunteered to treat us to packing up our kitchen. Plus, we had someone else helping out with the baby. Even with all that help it was less than pleasant.
I really should not complain. Our first of the three moves was a disaster and I ended up suing the moving company (and winning). For our second move, Karin was working and it was just me and 3 movers... and we didn't have the movers pack anything.
Last night, lying in our bed surrounded by boxes, we vowed never again to move into a home that we do not own. Having to move is bad, but having to move because someone else wants you to is much worse.
The "never rent again" conversation was our last prior to the neighbor's dog starting to bark (say it isn't so).
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Yeah - why don't you just buy a place. Not like you are moving back soon.
ReplyDeleteIf I know you were staying in once place, I'd lease some stuff at your house. ;-)