People,

So, Ladybetrothed Sarah and I are moving in together this Saturday. And as happy as that makes me - eliminating the constant shuttling of stuff from one apartment to another during the week, plus being together and all that mushy stuff - it sure doesn't make moving any easier.

Moving is by far the worst activity ever devised by human beings. Nothing about it is fun, stress free or not exhausting. I think I would rather clean all the toilets in Madison Square Garden with my toothbrush than move.

I hate moving so much that in every move I've ever made I inevitably get to the point where I take a survey of my stuff and start bargaining with myself. I think things like "hmmm, how much do I really need that computer?" or "sure it's a 17th century armoire, but it's had a good run and somebody will pick it up on the street." Unfortunately I never follow through on these bargains, although I will admit that many things I once thought were important do end up squarely in the trash. When I moved home from college I left a bed, a vacuum cleaner, a whole pile of toiletries, a guitar, a Nintendo and two framed pictures of my family just because I didn't feel like moving them.

But the reward for moving is undeniably great. Once you've carted all your useless crap from one place to the next you get to unpack and set it all up, a process which is like moving all over again!

Life is, of course, terrible.