And Away We Go!

I’m a planner. I like to know what’s going on, and I like it to be going on the way I intended it to. The last time we moved I wouldn’t let CPT Fromage accept the assistance from a moving company, even though it wouldn’t have cost us a dime. Nope, I didn’t want anyone else touching my stuff! How could they possibly know how to do it the right (my) way? Though it had nothing to do with my opting to pack our things myself, that move was a disaster. I had to promise we’d leave it to the professionals next time. So here we are, nearly 3 years later and it’s time to move again. As was the deal, movers arrived this morning.

Now, I promised CPT Fromage we wouldn’t do the move ourselves, but nothing was mentioned about packing. Sure, they can lift all the heavy boxes and I’ll let them carry our furniture, just so long as I’m able to make sure my favorite mugs are packed nicely away where I can find them, our decorations are separated by room and books are boxed by subject.

For nearly a month now I’ve been carefully and thoughtfully packing our things. Every box has an itemized list of what’s inside and a strip of colored ductape to indicate how it will make the 6 hour journey, and where it will end up when we arrive. Orange tape on the boxes that will go into storage, green for things we’ll need at the apartment but can trust the moving company to transport, and yellow for necessities we can’t live without and will take ourselves in the U-Haul (Oops, I may have promised we’d never rent another one of those again…!)

We finished late last night, almost all of our belongings sporting a strip of colored tape. I was so proud! Then this morning came and we met the movers… 2 men who, albeit very friendly, must not suffer my same level of OCD…

Oh dear… They’ve emptied and repacked lots of my boxes! Books on religion mixed in with memoirs? Decorations from the living room are WHERE? In with my serving dishes? Oh my…

Thank goodness this pregnancy hasn’t made me a psycho-crazy-bee-ach. Lucky me (and even luckier, CPT Fromage), the bigger my belly gets the more mellow my mood. Odd, but a pleasant surprise, and it couldn’t have happened at a better time because otherwise this move would be killing me! I’m trying to let go of the stress that comes from knowing that my living room lamp is nestled up next to the coffee grinder, and just be appreciative that I didn’t have to wrap every single dish we own or deal with boxing up everything in the pantry again.

72 hours left in The Little Apple… Lawton, here we come!

(Erika doesn’t like moving either)