1. Blankets & Pillows.
I don’t care how good those advertisements make them look—those vacuum seal compression bags are a total scam. I’ve tried them out and they totally do NOT squish down into conveniently packed squares that I can conveniently pack into my Jeep. No. The reality? They compress down into awkwardly and ambiguously shaped mounds that become even more awkward to try and fit into any vehicle, be it movers or the back of your SUV, but there is NOTHING “convenient” about them. I’m aware that you’re probably supposed to only stuff one item per bag, but I’m broke and I’d rather bitch about my giant comforter taking up a third of the space in my car than pay $20 per vacuum-bag for them to only half work. Screw you, infomercials. You’re all liars and con artists.
2. Bathroom Stuff.
Maybe it’s just me, but I feel like even when I wipe everything down, everything in my bathroom stays permanently moist. And I don’t mean on a day to day occurrence, I mean literally ONLY when I have to pack everything. I can wipe down my shampoo bottles, the loofa, the giant hand soap bottle that sits under my sink… but when it comes time to pack them all up, it’s as if all my bathroom items come alive and simultaneously make the asshole decision to leak or mysteriously pop open and cover the box in pomegranate/cranberry smelling slime. Funny, I never have that issue when I throw my shower stuff into my gym bag, but something about placing them in a cardboard box warrants a surprise goo fest when I go to move it into my new place. Bathroom items are undercover douchebags. Beware.
3. Kitchen Knives.
Okay, so I’m pretty good about saving the boxes my stuff originally comes in, but after a while, that shit piles up. So, of course, when it comes time to move and I don’t have the perfectly cut out plastic covers to slip over my knives, WTF do I use?! Can somebody post a life-hack that shows how to pack knives? Because I haven’t figured out how to do that successfully yet. This was my solution:
Not exactly the best way to do it, I’m sure. But that was the effort I put in. No shame.
I think I seriously need to attend some sort of seminar that coaches me on how to let go of my lidless Tupperware. I’m very linear about finding practicality in everything I possess, so I have a hard time reasoning with myself to let go of a container that can very well double as a cereal bowl, or hold leftover flour. And the same goes for my orphaned lids… I mean, maybe I can use them to hold food for my cat or swat an unwelcome insect… I know. I’m that much of a cheap ass that I can’t just go out and buy a brand new set for like, $10. No, I’d rather hoard a crap ton of mismatched plastic and vent about how there’s just no easy way to pack them on Thought Catalog. That sounds more reasonable.
I feel like no one realizes how much crap they have until they get to this part of the move. I’ve learned to never say “oh, we don’t have that much stuff, we’re almost done.” Lies. All. Lies. Once that line has been uttered out loud, it’s like you’ve cursed yourself into 4 more trips that you didn’t know you had left. The microwave, the vacuum, the three slow cookers you forgot you even had, the random cake pop machine that your mom got you when you moved into your first apartment, all the blenders you swore you’d use to make your protein shakes… they’re all the ninjas of the moving process. They camouflage into the background of your home and then attack you last minute when you think you’re in the clear. Never fun. Guess I gotta put another $30 in the tank… looks like we’ve got another trip in tow. FML.
6. Holiday Decorations.
Who knew I had so many freakin’ ornaments?! I didn’t even have a tree last Christmas! Why the hell am I still lugging this crap around? But… they’re so pretty and sparkly… and my grandma gave me that one… oh, screw it, I’ll just take the whole bag along with the torn up garlands. And what if I get so busy that when Halloween rolls around, I don’t have the time to buy a cute basket for trick-or-treaters? By logic, that means I have to take the cute zombie basket I got last Halloween along with the cute little ghost lights I bought at Hobby Lobby. No one wants to buy that twice. Besides, I’m recycling material. No one can be mad at me for caring about the environment, right? No one except me, of course… cursing at myself for justifying putting a dilapidated box crudely marked “Holiday Fun Stuff” into the rest of my collection of unnecessary boxes. I hate myself sometimes.
I can’t pack my TV until the bitter end of the move, what if I miss an episode of Game of Thrones? That’s just not cool. So, now I have to figure out how to condense all the millions of surge protectors, power cords and other miscellaneous wires and chargers into the “These Are Okay To Pack Away Because I Don’t Even Know What They’re For” box, but still keep a few out so that I can continue life until I’m watching How I Met Your Mother reruns on the floor of my living room. That and I now have to be on paranoia watch with my phone charger because if I accidentally forget it back at the old place, my life will be over. And by the way, how long have I had this computer monitor circa 1989? It’s just been collecting dust in my storage closet. Should I even take it? How much will they charge me if I just leave this bitch here? Why do I have so much random shit?!
8. Workout Stuff.
Exercise ball, shake weight, 6 lb Pilates ball thing, pull-up bar, push-up twisty handle thingies… all shit I never use, but refuse to let go of. I don’t even like to go on the Wii Fit board because it calls me out for using it so infrequently. Dick. But alas, into the box it goes. It’s not like it’s particularly difficult to pack these items, it just spins me into a shame spiral to look at all these things I purchased with such high expectations of myself only to face reality that I haven’t used them after the first week of buying them. Don’t judge me. I’ve been super busy, okay? My new apartment complex has a 24-hour gym, so I’ll get a midnight workout sesh in and then it’ll inspire me to use the stuff I already have at home. That’s how it works, right? …Right…?
I thought jewelry boxes were designed to keep your jewelry organized in a cute little box. Reality? It’s a closed off cubby hole with drawers full of tangled necklaces that you want no part of acknowledging you even have. And it gets worse because you don’t want to put the jewelry you do wear on a daily basis into that mess, so you figure out a way to either put all of it on when you’re moving (and look like an idiot wearing sweatpants and every bracelet you own) or you find an envelope or another plastic bin to toss it in and hope it doesn’t get all tangled up… but you already know it will. You also realize when you start to move your furniture out of the way that you have an entire assemblage of earring backs that your cat stockpiled in a corner you never thought to look. Meaning, I actually could’ve worn the pearl earrings I wanted to that interview… Ugh. Eff you, cat. Ruining my chances for advancement. I’m onto you…
Ugh. This. THIS in my opinion, is the MOST annoying part of moving. You try to slim down your fridge two weeks out before your big move, but you still have three different kinds of mustards and leftover burger patties from MDW, not to mention the kale you swore you were going to try that new summer recipe with. Who thought putting baked beans in a Ziploc bag was a good idea? Why do I have so many marinades? Why do I have so many dressings? When’s the last time I even made a salad at home? And then there’s all the freezer food. How long has that tuna steak been in there? Shit, I had that salmon I was going to make for dinner last week… Fuckit, it’s coming with me. I spent like $17 on that. Like hell I’m throwing that out. Where’s my cooler? Wait. FUCK, the cooler! Ughhh… that’s ANOTHER bulky item I forgot about. ROARRRR… I HATE. PACKING!