We just completed a move from Herndon, VA to Fairfax, VA, and holy crap has it opened my eyes.

I have personally moved probably 15 times in the last 12 years—though, to be fair, a bunch of those were to and from college, and I was travelling light. This time around, though…wow.moving10.1

Nobody likes moving to start with…even after four or five carloads of stuff you don’t use anymore being donated to the local Goodwill, you still have about twelve times more crap than anybody ever needs to survive and thrive in this world. It’s human nature, and just a basic law of averages, but still.

You’ll tell yourself, “Oh, I’ve only got a few boxes…the worst part of it will be the bed, the couches, and the dressers…” which will be half-true. You may only have those things out where you can see them, but you will not believe the time it takes to do a final clean on your apartment (if you want your deposit back), the number of left-over clothes-hangers that you have, or how many extra garbage bags you’ll need for last-minute, this-fits-nowhere crap that you have. (Speaking of garbage bags, this trick works wonders when you are transporting your clothes…far far better than tossing them all in a piece of luggage, or in a garbage bag on their own. Simply cut a 3 inch hole out of the bottom of a garbage bag, flip it over, and use it as a cover for hanging shirts and pants. Keeps em all together while you’re moving them around, and nothing falls out of the middle of the stack while you’re trundling down the stairs to the moving truck.)

The move itself was almost as painful as it could be—and we got lucky. We found out that the building we moved into was a ground-floor unit (we knew that) facing the parking lot (we didn’t know that). We were able to load our stuff in from the parking lot through the “back” door. It was a godsend, as the move out of the old apartment was quite a bit of walking to get to the trailer. I could’ve done it without the help of some close friends, but I’d probably still be moving things right now, at a quarter after two on Monday morning. I didn’t even ask them to help—they just volunteered. It helps to surround yourself with wonderful people.

So we get our stuff moved in—it looks like someone else’s apartment threw up into ours—and what’s next but the dog (Kilee) refuses to do her business. (Not, “she refuses to do her business out doors,” but, “she refuses to do her business at all.”) She won’t eat, she won’t pee, she won’t poop…I know for a fact that she doesn’t deal with change well (we got her as a rescue, so she freaks out any time we put her in a car to go somewhere because she thinks (I imagine) that we’re dropping her off for good). She’s gone over 36 hours without peeing or pooping (though not for lack of us taking her out), eating very little, and generally keeping her eye on the new doorways in the house, to make sure you aren’t going to leave through one of them. The longer we’re in the apartment, the more comfortable she gets, but man; we make a change in our lives, and her sphincter just locks up!

As I write this, I’m wondering where my journal actually ended up, when Verizon will restore my internet service (they were quick to shut off my cable when they said they would…it’s past midnight the day of the transfer and there’s still no internet, shocker), and how long it’ll take for us to make this place a home. We’ve got boxes everywhere, the computer and printer out and set up in the most useful (but least convenient) place possible, and enough wall art lying around to start up my own Sotheby’s. Ugh.

I am hopeful that we’ll see the benefits of why we moved here to start with pretty soon—commute, save a bit of money, easy access to the train—but I guess at the root of it, I’d like for things to get back to being as easy as they were when we were already set up and organized at the previous place. I’m telling you, it’s easy to underestimate what a pain in the ass it is to pack up your house, move it, and unpack it again. I’m constantly asking, “which box is “X” in again, again?” and it is annoying me to no end.

I had a close friend stay over for some pizza and beers yesterday, and met some great new people while out praying for Kilee to do her business earlier today. It’s shaping up to be a hopeful and happy move after all.

UPDATE: The dog did finally poop thought she’s still generally insecure with the new location. She refuses to eat her food unless we are standing there next to her—I think she’s afraid that we’ll leave while she’s in the midst of focusing on eating. Poor thing. She’s well-loved, though, so I think she’ll calm down eventually over the next couple of weeks. Irritatingly enough, still no Verizon guy…and now I’ve got a nasty head cold to boot!

UPDATE 2: Verizon guy came, hooked us up, and now we’re back to the monumental task of wading through our own junk. Talk to you again soon!

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