A life in boxes…

Ah, the joys of moving. It’s always an interesting process to revisit everything you own, box it up, say good bye as it drives away, then meet it on the other side and open it all up like Christmas. Moving also symbolizes closing of an old chapter and opening of a new chapter, with it some mixed emotions of happiness and sadness.

I remembered when I moved to New York City almost 4 years ago exactly. I was coming from a 2,000 square foot home in Denver to a 350 square foot studio in New York. Downsizing was an understatement, it was an enormous feat to undertake! Decades of stuff I had been carting around, furniture to fill 3 bedrooms and 2 living rooms… All condensed to one small carton. No matter how much I wanted to be methodical, it was a cluster of trying to get my house ready for renting, finding a tenant, lining up housing in NY, and dealing with move logistics. After 2 garage sales and countless trips to the Salvation Army, it became less methodical and more acquiescing that no matter how hard I wanted to avoid a storage unit it was inevitable.

During that move I learned something they don’t tell you upfront when the moving company is selling you on their services. What is that? Well, it’s that once your stuff is back at their facility, the next step is for them to find a transport carrier / truck driver heading in the direction of your destination with space for your load. Now if you’re a full truck load you’re probably golden, but when you’re literally a sliver of 3-4 feet on a truck, no one wants to deal with you. Especially when you’re trying to find someone who’s crossing the whole country, willing to drive all the way to New York City just for 3-4 feet of space.

Needless to say, I slept on an uncomfortable camping cot in my empty apartment for over two weeks waiting for my load to arrive. It didn’t take long before I was sick of the 3 outfits I brought along with eating every meal out. By the time the movers came, I was so elated, I couldn’t stop smiling. My stuff! Home! Yay! Though 2 days later the city got hit with Hurricane Sandy and I was evacuated for 7 days. Needless to say, New York gave me a complicated welcome that mirrored it’s entire experience.

As the New York chapter is coming to a close, and the 350 square foot studio went back into it’s shipping crate, here I sit, back in my empty apartment with my camping cot. It seems only proper the two of us have one last night together to say good bye in the same way we said hello. Watching a chapter close that only 4 years ago we were thrilled and hopeful at the opportunities before us. Was New York a failure, not at all. Am I glad I came, absolutely. Is it time to go, you betcha.




One thought on “A life in boxes…

  1. no matter how good the move is, it is always stressful- sometimes in ways we didn’t anticipate. I find it slightly funny that we are both moving at the same time. Hopefully this will be my last for a very long time.

    Oh- I’d happily take the old singer sewing machine from you- you know, so you’d have less to keep in storage. I’m very selfless like that. ;)

    Liked by 1 person

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