I have a confession to make: having packers in my house drives me bonkers. Last time we moved, a swarm of eight people descended on our two bedroom apartment. Now, having eight people over wasn’t a big deal when we were hosting a party, but eight people touching and hurriedly packing everything we own was a bit claustrophobic. Every time I moved around, I felt like I was in someone’s way or that I didn’t belong there. No matter where I chose to sit, I was perpetually right next to something that needed immediate packing. Plus, I felt ridiculous sitting around watching other people work when I was perfectly capable of pitching in. It is an odd sensation really, to feel so uncomfortably out of place in your own home.
The small talk was always odd too. My husband collects cables with a myriad of acronyms that, apparently, when attached to the TV in the proper combination make everything work. He is in charge of the HDMIs, the S-Videos, the COAXs, and all the other funny looking wires that are vital to TV success. The moving guy asked me, cable after cable, which ones went with which devices and which remotes he should put in each box. I felt like I was on the world’s strangest quiz show. I suggested he make a “cables” box and a “remotes” box, to which he shrugged and seemed intent on figuring out which doohickeys went where.
This time around, I’m hoping to reduce the amount of time the packers spend in my house. My husband thinks I have gone completely crazy. I’ve spent the last day or two unloading all of the dishes from the cabinets and stacking them in neat piles on the counter. I’ve sorted all the holiday decorations and put all the little pieces in Ziplocs. All of the breakable odds and ends are sitting on a bench, waiting for bubble wrap. All the books are off the book shelves, stacked, and waiting for boxes. Off-season clothes are in tubs and sorted by season. I’ve tried to convince my husband to sort all the cables into piles with the various devices, but he seems to want no part in the piles I’m creating. He’s muttered, “crazy” more than a few times under his breath, and pointed at the commercials for “Hoarding: Buried Alive.”
Yes, I might be a bit on the obsessive side when it comes to how things are packed, but the piles are only temporary. Clutter and I do not get along. I’ve tried to explain to him that I’m not packing (none of the tubs are sealed, nothing is bubble wrapped, etc.), I’m just organizing, saving the packers a step, and, hopefully, getting them out of my house a bit quicker. Hopefully, all of this prep work will make for a more organized move and easier unpacking.
Do you pre-pack before the movers get there? Do you like things packed a certain way? Does watching them pack your stuff drive you nuts?
