Moving and Bibliomania

I’m moving. In case everyone has missed this.

The very worst part of moving is packing.

I thought, naively, that packing would take a day or so of steady work and then I would be done.

Oh, what lies. What vile thoughts.

Why do I have so much STUFF?

I have a billion books, a ton of clothes, and just stuff.

I’m turning into a hoarder of books. I’m a bibliomaniac.

Books everywhere. I have two bookshelves full of books, magazines, everything. I have plastic bins of books under my bed. I have stacks of books in the bottom of my closet. There are books under my bathroom sink. Books in the hallway. Books freaking everywhere.

And I’ve read every single one of them. Dear Lord, I have no social life.

And my clothes! I never wear half of this stuff, so I put it in bags to take to Goodwill. But I still ended up with a ton of clothes. Granted, the seasonal stuff is about half of it, but still!

And if anyone knew how much make up and hair stuff I have, they might die. I could probably not buy makeup for a good year or two if I actually used all of it. This is all Walgreen’s fault. They keep sending samples and stuff to work. Not to mention I walk around for eight hours, looking at make up and drooling. And my hair stuff! I do not need three cans of THE SAME hairspray. Or two bottles of gel, two bottles of spray gel, two things of hair putty, one thing of hair glue, three different brands of volume spray, two bottles of smoothing stuff, two bottles of heat protection spray, two cans of mousse, and who knows what else. Oh, it never ends.

And art supplies. I thought I could fit all of them in one giant box. Who was I kidding? Just my paper, canvas, and freaking brushes filled one box. Then I have oil pastels, pencils, paints, clay, MORE BRUSHES, more paper, random sketch books, construction paper, water color paper, rice paper, good lord the paper will never end, and finished stuff. I’ve got a stack of paintings and sketches as thick as a dictionary, and that’s not even counting the stuff I haven’t taken off of my walls yet.

I’m seriously considering packing my toothbrush, a week’s worth of clothes, my guitar, and some deodorant and leaving the rest of my stuff here.

It will never end.

I forgot I have to move my bed, which requires that I pack all of my sheets and stuff. And towels, and my stuff in the bathroom.

 

WHY DO I HAVE 28 SCARVES?! This is insanity.

 

I digress.

 

I’ve got most of my clothes packed, and most of my books packed, and all of my art stuff. I’m standing in the chaos that is my room, full of despair.

 

Once everything is packed, how will I move it?

I spent twenty minutes playing Tetris with the empty boxes I got from work, trying to fit them into my two door car. Three in the trunk, four in the back seat, and two in the passenger seat. I ended up hunched over the steering wheel all the way home from work, glaring at people as I drove.

If it took me that long to get the empty boxes in my tiny car, how will I move the full boxes? Oh dear.

It does not help that I have little T-Rex arms and no upper body strength. You try moving 80 lb boxes of books when you’re just a lazy white girl of 5’6 and 140 lbs.

 

I will conquer this moving beast. I will slay it and leave it’s mangled corpse on the doorstep of my new house. I will have it’s head on a post, right beside the mailbox. Oh, it will be glorious.