Why Moving Totally Sucks….. Nothing F*cking Worse 😫

Where have I been you asked??? I’ve been in moving HELL. 😈 Actually, on the verge of a nervous f*cking breakdown as I just moved out of my home of 20 years, 18 months ago!! Back in October, my fiancee decides it’s time to downsize and tells me we have til January 31st to move out. My first reaction, ARE YOU F*CKING KIDDING ME???? Somehow, I am to pull off hosting Thanksgiving AND Christmas WHILE packing my entire house. Then, I can look forward to most likely moving out in subzero temps in snowy January. ☃ AWESOME. 😫

As of February 1st, I am officially HOMELESS. Due to the mass exodus of New Yorkers leaving NYC, it left us with a lack of desirable and affordable home options in a lousy time of year. So, I am currently sucking it up and staying in a family member’s condo til something pleasing comes along in hopefully a better spring market. Enough of the emotional stuff, let’s get down to business. Here are my reasons why I would rather chew on broken glass than deal with the horrific shitstorm that is moving. I apologize in advance for the anxiety attack you are most likely to have during or after reading this. Perhaps it will be PTSD for some of you. Now I will narrate why moving is by far, without a doubt, the worst thing in the entire world.

First and foremost, you discover your life SUCKS. Moving SUCKS, and you’re doing it so now your life SUCKS. You HATE everyone that can relax or have plans. You want to be anyone but you right now.

You realize exactly how much shit you have. You. Have. So. Much. Shit. 💩 Packing your life into boxes makes you acutely aware of your amazing ability to HOARD. You begin fearing that you will be on the next episode of Hoarders Are Us. No joke, you begin looking for the camera crew to show up and start asking you just how many bins of shoes do you really have…..PLEEEAAASE do NOT expect me to answer this question. 😳😳😳😳

If you are the Mom, all of a sudden EVERYTHING is yours. The plates. Yours. The throws. Yours. The blender. Yours. The towels. Yours. You are responsible for packing the ENTIRE house except what is in other family members’ bedrooms. Everyone has been using all of the household items up until the very moment of moving and POOF!!! It’s YOURS!!!

You either devote 12 hours a day to packing or pay movers $10gs to do it. What GREAT options these are. Hmmmm….use every ounce of energy and spare second you have for 3 months or obliterate your bank account. FML!!! 🤑

You are an eyewitness to watching the rest of your family assume packing will be SO easy and see them sitting around relaxing. You see your kids goofing around. My Fiancee spent weekend after weekend watching “The Matrix” for the 500th time drinking beer. Does he ask to help the Early Bird packer….NOOOOOO. Oh and the fighting! In no other life event have I uttered the word DIVORCE so many times. To add insult to injury, I had to endure his relentless hoarding shaming. My moving committee crew BLOWS.

How about the endless trips to Home Depot for packing material. You just don’t hit the store up once for 30 bins, 40 boxes and 6 rolls of bubble wrap. You make it ten times harder on yourself by making 10 different trips because there are NEVER enough stupid BOXES!!!

You also figure out your friends and family are terrible people. You have your extended family and a ton of friends, UNTIL it’s moving day. My father always says you know who your true friends are when they show up on moving day. Well, not a good sign here for me, as my social circle suddenly went MIA. 😪

You will inevitably uncover old photos and memory objects and before you know it, you’ve wasted 5 hours emotionally reminiscing. F*CK!!!!

You will have anxiety like you never knew was possible. You will wake up in the middle of the night in cold sweats. Am I on schedule? Have I done enough so far? Will I still be packing as the new tenant’s UHaul pulls up to the driveway? Is the house clean enough? Don’t even get me started about how your alcohol consumption will increase. You have the Mimosa drip going to make packing “FUN”. It’s more like you use it as anesthesia to numb your mind about how exhausted you already are. 😩🥱

You have no idea how the F*CK to disassemble your furniture. You wonder how the hell you put it all together in the first place. You forget how heavy your shit is and there are bound to be some serious moving injuries. Oh, and nothing fits through the door to make things even more AMUSING.

Whoever you have hired to be your movers, will NOT give a crap about your stuff. They will pick up your favorite painted armoire and stick a few chairs on top of it so that when you eventually see it again, it’s full of scratches and is ruined. No towels or blankets on top to protect it cause you are not there to oversee. Super UGH.

Just when you think you’re close to being finished, you open up your pantry to discover another two hours worth of work.#GOODTIMES 😭

Each trip to the dump is painful. You hem and haw about throwing away even the most mindless of things. Your hoarding instinct kicks back in as you even question throwing away two throw pillows that look like your Grandmother’s from the 1940s. 🤪

Inevitably, you have to give some of the moving responsibilities over to your significant other because one person cannot just do it all. #BIGMISTAKE. Scott tries to cut as many corners as possible like renting the smaller UHaul so we can all enjoy twice the amount of moving trips to the storage facility as necessary. #AWESOME. Oh, and he underestimated how many days it would take to move an entire house worth of shit so on day 3, he has no movers planned for the day. So it’s 10 degrees with a foot of snow and he’s looking at me to be Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson for the day. REEEAAALLLYYYY???? #BOOB#YOUWILLPAY

After you finally empty out your house and pack your entire life into two 10×15 storage facilities, you get to clean. The entire time you are doing this, you wonder how you ever lived in this filth in the first place. You work your badonkadonk off to make it nicer than you ever had it the entire time you lived there. Makes no sense at all. Hey, and as soon as you move into your new place, you guessed it, you get to clean again. #F*CKME.

Now, you are in your new place and you can’t find any of your old shit and half of your shit broke on the way to the new place so you go out and buy all new shit. #HOARDERSREVISTED

You have to remember to cancel all your utilities and start the new ones. It took me 2 HOURS to go to the post office and change my address. Surely this is NOT a Mensa task WTF!!! #KILLMENOW 😣

Balancing two worlds is stressful. Balancing two homes is annoying. Half of your stuff is here. Half of your stuff is there. The half you need is never where you are. One night, we realized all the sheets were at the other house and we slept on towels. I wore the same yoga pants for a week. I was a shadow of my former Tricia EXTRA self.

In the end, it’s over and I survived. One day this will be funny. One day I will find my black high heels. One day I will find my photo albums. Just not today. I’m really tired and I’m trying to find myself again. 😩