Thursday, February 28, 2013
When you were a kid and your family moved, you sat on the curb ate popsicles and watched the movers load the van and drive away. You didn't do anything until you arrived at the new house, and were assigned your room. Were you promptly sat down and ate popsicles until your Mom found you.
When you were a college student and moved for college, you went to a tiny dorm room with a bunch of new stuff your parents bought you, or you found your own digs and had a hodge podge of handmedown furniture and left behind stuff. In either case, it wasn't much and the packing, loading and reverse was pretty much on you, and maybe a sad girlfriend or boyfriend you were leaving behind.
As a young family, your starter home still had remnants of the college life, and if you were lucky, even better handmedown stuff. And because you were saving for the new baby, you did as much of the packing and moving yourself as you could, and bitched about every cent the company charged you.
By the next move, you've met people with trucks and muscles. Friends who will work for pizza and beer. This is the best move ever, even if it takes the longest, is the most confusing and things get broken. Still, there was beer.
Later, as life in the corporate world kicked in and the family enlarged, you took advantage of the executive moving service. This time, you sat on the curb and ate popsicles- "martinis"- while the movers packed and loaded and drove away. You didn't even see the $10,000 bill until months later when you were happily ensconced in the new place.
A few moves later, and a shift in corporate spending, you continue to change homes. You have moved yourself, moved friends, put a life in storage and donated a whole old frightening past to strangers.
And this time, you choose to move, when you don't have to— a strange concept to be sure. You wish for those twenty something year old friends with strong backs and empty stomachs, and part of you almost digs into the coffers for the expensive moving company- with insurance, and three large men. You weigh the cost of the service with the cost of massages, chiropractic treatment, and replacing Grandma's antique cake plate.
But in the end, you tell yourself. I can do this. I'll just go one box at a time.
And then I'll have a popsicle.
Posted by linda sands