Moving

I've moved a lot. Like, for real a lot.
I hate packing. And unpacking.
I told Joy last night that I am moving in a couple weeks, and she said "so, you're going to start packing the night before?"

I was helping one of my students move his stuff into storage the other day, and he was frustrated with himself for waiting so long to pack. So, I had to tell him about my own college packing joys. Many readers will remember the excitement... always last minute, always a mess, always confusing and dreadful. I always had so much stuff. It multiplies...

One of the years I was an RA, my parents came up with the minivan and took a load of stuff home in my car. I waited until all the residents had moved out, and loaded up the minivan. It took for-ev-er. And it filled the van from top to bottom. I couldn't see out the rearview mirror, and the passenger side mirror was broken. So the only mirror I had was on the driver's side. Luckily (???), I left G'boro in the middle of the night, so there wasn't much traffic to look out for as I drove 3 hours in the dark, stopping every so often to do sprints in a gas station parking lot so I wouldn't fall asleep.

This move shouldn't be quite that bad, since I'm just moving across the apt. complex. I've given myself 6 days where I'll be an official resident of both apartments, so I take as many trips as I need. My parents are bringing the minivan, though.