Sunday, November 9, 2008

I'm sure that went poorly

They say that you can check in to corporate housing with nothing but your toothbrush.

Or, in my case, a toothbrush, a litter box, and a cat.

This is, in fact, a vicious lie.

I don't know if any of you (beyond my sister -- I know she's done it) have ever packed to temporarily live someplace else for "at least a month, most likely more," but it's not a really a science -- it's guesswork.

I'll be checking in to corporate housing with (at current count) two duffel bags, a suitcase, two medium-sized boxes (one labelled "kitchen," and the other labelled "desk"), two file boxes (two for "bathroom," one with all my critics circle stuff for the year (we have to do nominations soon), and one half-full of DVDs and books, so I can keep myself entertained -- as if my life will somehow be less busy when I'm living a mile away), computer, monitor, printer, litter box, litter, new scratching post, and cat.

Ooo, and this stapler. I should probably take the stapler.

The suitcase packing was particularly difficult given that, although it's November now, it's been over 80 degrees. So, while I'd like to be able pack for only one season (hopefully, it won't be that long till I find a house), I've really got to have pretty much all climates covered.

I had this theory, though. My theory was that if I took stuff out of my closet still on the hangers, and laid it all flat in the duffel bag, if I stuffed the bag tight enough, everything would stay on its hangers even when I stood the bag up on its side. I'll let you know how that goes tomorrow -- I haven't had the heart to stand the bag up yet. Besides, the cat is sitting on it. She usually gets a little upset when I'm packing because she doesn't like me to go away. I don't know what she thinks with three suitcases and six boxes. Especially since she saw me put her toys in one of the boxes. ("Dude, it's fine if you go, but leave the little mice.")

Although, honestly, the most depressing thought about this whole process (besides knowing with certainty that I'm doing it wrong, and will have simultaneously overpacked and underpacked in all sorts of ways) is the fact that I'll have to do it again. The next time, I'm sure, will be better, because I'll be packing up for a house, in which I intend to live for, y'know, ever. But the fact that I'm going someplace temporary, so really shouldn't get too settled in -- while, at the same time, I have to get settled enough to live for upwards of a month -- is surprisingly frustrating.

I'm happy about moving out of the condo. I've been trying to do this for years, and packing to leave here feels right. It's just the idea that I'm still not done with moving yet that is putting the rain cloud over my parade.

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