I’ve moved so many times in my life you’d think it would be no big deal to do it one more time. But it is.
Part of the anxiety is the actual physical demands of the process. But I keep reminding myself that the folks we bought the house from are in their 80’s. So stop whining.
The other part is the need to sort through everything and decide what stays and what goes. Most all of the household goods were sorted when I sorted out the last boxes from the storage units three years ago. But when I brought my studio home last year I moved it into a mostly full environment. Now it’s a room stuffed with stuff. Somewhere in the midst of that is a bead table where I was making jewelry. It got to be so claustrophobic I haven’t been able to stand being there for very long.
So, it’s back to the studio in the morning to sort, pack and move on. I just won’t be moving it very far til the end of the week -it snowed!
Until next time . . .