I hate moving. Everyone does, but it turns me into a terrible crankypants. I become completely unreasonable and whiny. I'm not saying this behavior is ok, and I wish I could have a more mature, adult approach to this process.
So when I had to move my life across country in less than a month, the crazy Moving Monster threatened to emerge.
What did I do? I started getting rid of s**t. When you're faced with your small sedan of a car and whatever UPS can ship without spending a fortune as your only moving means, you bring out the gavel and make some tough decisions.
The furniture you love but would cost too much to ship? Hey there, Craigslist.
Your bed that is SO comfy and in good condition? Welcome to my childhood bedroom at my parents' house!
Then there's the closet. I was pretty ruthless with my clothing and shoes--if I hadn't worn it in a season, or wondered why I would wear it, or it was something bought for sorority recruitment (like those heinous red heels, ugh), it went into the charity bag. I really hope the good people at the Genesis Women's Shelter Thrift Store have a discerning eye and tossed lots of stuff I brought in.
The random items in my apartment--well, they were donated or farmed out to friends, family, and in the case of my dresser, an intern at my old company who needed furniture for her apartment.
Packing the stuff I was actually bringing was fairly easy, thanks to giant Ziploc bags and an abundance of luggage I've collected over the years. Then came the decision as to what would actually make the trip with me in the car. These items would be the only things I would have for my first month in DC. Among the more random were:
--Air mattress (why? I had a bed in my sublet)
--A dishtowel (just one, mind you)
All told, I don't really have any regrets or "if I could go back and change something" moments. Though I do wish I had a photo of my car, packed to the gills. When your dad's an engineer, your car will be able to hold the maximum amount.