February 5, 2010
I have become a veteran of “moving day”. This is not to say that I’ve aquired particular skills in efficient packing or the lifting of heavy objects. Rather, I’d say it’s the opposite where every time I move I leave more behind, more to the last minute, and more flung loosely in the back seat of the car. If you consider lazy moving a skill…then I’ve mastered it.
I’ve been witness to all the kinds of moving I can think of: the traditional brown box, big truck, big deal move; the questionably illogical drive a U-Haul across Canada for school move; the overseas, whatever you can fit in your suitcase move; and most recently the 4th floor, no elevator, do-it-yourself move.
And here I find myself, knee-deep in boxes and bags…trying to sort through the mess that is “lazy moving”. The real catcher is the combination of my lazy moving with my partner in packing crime’s, let’s call it… speed moving tactic. Here I am sloppily flinging unfolded clothes into grocery bags, while Dave is one step ahead, sweeping up half-empty bags and packing them in the truck like a Tetrus puzzle (not to be tempered with for fear of death). He and his brothers have been known to pack a mean trunk, the kind where you’re not sure if removing one box would cause them all to come toppling, or if it’s so tight that friction would keep it together. It’s a bit like Jenga… but nobody laughs when the game’s over.
Here’s an inconvenient truth: the majority of the storage in our new place is in the kitchen (where the minority of our stuff belongs). We have empty kitchen cabinets, and books strewn across the living room floor. We are in desperate need of a ladle, but have nowhere to set up two laptops, two hard-drives, and two desk lamps. Does this say something about us?
All of this being said, lazy moving has inspired some creative storage tactics for our new place…