I sincerely don’t understand people who voluntarily (or even involuntarily) move houses ever couple of years. Yes, there are military families who have no choice so they get a pass, but the others….
What the hell are they thinking?
Moving is a type of torture. It is forcing you to become really painfully aware of all the stuff you never should have bought, and the stuff you should have gotten rid of a long time ago. Moving forces you to basically catalogue all your bad choices. Moving also works to make you hate absolutely everything you own, even if deep down you like it. Having to put everything in boxes and put everything in the way, disrupting your daily life, makes you resent every single damned thing in ever one of those damned boxes. It makes you irate with everyone you live with because their junk is CLEARLY the worst part of all the chaos. You could survive in the cardboard city hell if it was just yours stuff. Add in other people’s and it takes a moderately survivable situation and turns it into a living hell.
My legs are absolutely covered in bruises from continuously walking into boxes. My shoulder hurts from stacking the eighty squillion boxes. My sinuses are inflamed and throbbing from all the dust kicked in in the move. My soul is crushed from having to live in this hell house, stacked to the ceiling with boxes.
I have never hated living somewhere more than I hate living iny house right now.
Friday…. I can make it to Friday…