One week from now, I will be waking up in a Taiwanese hotel room. All of my possessions will be in suitcases. My apartment will be empty. Two years worth of stuff has to be condensed into four bags, and it’s starting to give me nightmares. Last night I dreamed of piles of paperwork and heaps of clothes multiplying into huge mounds and burying me. Sometimes my subconscious isn’t very creative.
I hate packing. I absolutely detest it. When I go on vacation, I usually just throw a bunch of stuff into a bag at the last minute. I almost always forget something. Moving to a new house is pretty horrible, too. Taking everything you own with you to a new place sucks. Putting it all away and then getting it all back out again? What a pain. But moving to a different country is a whole different experience.
There’s no U-haul and cardboard boxes involved here. You can only take what you can carry. I don’t have nearly as much stuff this time and no furniture to worry about, so that does make it a bit easier. But still, making the decision on what stays and what goes is tedious. I don’t tend to buy things I don’t think I’ll need or use. I don’t have a lot of junk. Everything I don’t take with me will have to be replaced when I get there, which costs money. I will basically be starting over again kitchen-wise. And then there’s the furniture problem, which I won’t even get into.
How am I going to wrangle all of my possessions from around the apartment into two suitcases? Every time I think about it, I want to tear my hair out. Can somebody send the packing fairy along so I can wake up next Monday with all my things neatly packed, sorted, or given away? Yeah, thanks.