Moved…Moving…On

I am finally finished. Moving. Seriously, I think moving is some sort of karmic revenge. If it is, whatever I did to piss the universe off must have been pretty severe, because this move has been the most stressful one I’ve ever had. Friends who offered to help bailing (thankfully, not Kelly and Matt, who were lifesavers for me), inordinate trips back and forth in the car, a bear of a time cleaning the old place. The list of “things not going the way I want them to” is endless.

But, at least it’s over.

Suffice it to say, I have an inordinate amount of stuff. Too much. All the trips up and down three flights of stairs have made me realize how much of a packrat I can be…and how desperately I need to start purging. I just don’t have room for all of this stuff!

I started with books. I have oodles. Most I haven’t touched in years. What’s the sense in holding onto them? I can’t get rid of all of them, obviously, I’m too much of a word junkie for that, but I AM making an effort to find good homes for a good third of them. I sold some to eCampus.com (who would have thought that 13 years after graduating college, some of my books would still be worth money?). I want to donate the others or find a used book store to give them to.

I also Goodwilled a bunch of kitchen and dining stuff. Old wineglasses, pots and pans, knife set, etc. Stuff that was just taking up room that I didn’t need anymore. Chucked the old wooden futon frame that’s been rotting on the deck for the last few years. Got rid of some lamps. Donating the computer monitor, since I haven’t turned on the old PC in months.

Next to go are my tapes. Yes, you heard me. Tapes. Cassette tapes. I probably have close to 300, and another whole box of 150 – 200 cassette singles. And another whole box of mix tapes. I figure there’s got to be a collector out there who would want the tapes and the singles, right? (Yes, you, collector, e-mail me, I’ll make you a SWEET deal). After all, who wouldn’t want a saccharine-filled collection of ’80s and early ’90s pop and hair metal?

From there, who knows what I’ll purge. But, it’s my new commitment to myself…to pare down. My next move (which I’m hoping won’t be for a few years) will NOT be this miserable.

To quote Shane Hines, “This I promise me…”

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