Moving SUCKS. I never get as little sleep as I do when we're moving. I think I make too many plans - I think we can get so much done (tape and paint 3 rooms, get rid of all of our old/unattractive clothing, pack via an intricate system of alphabetizing and color-coding) and then we end up doing what we always do - frantically throw crap into boxes as the movers walk through the door.
Although there is something exhilarating about the moving process. Leaving home (be it EVER so humble), thinking about all the things that happened while you were there. Especially this place - it was small and dark and cave-like, but it was our first place in DC, and we had such wonderful neighbors (well, 5 - the rest weren't so hot). Things have changed so much for us in the past 14 months, I don't think we're the same people that packed everything into the truck in Minnesota and headed east. Which is not a bad thing.
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