Well I have moved again. In my eighteen years of living this is now my nineteenth residence. You would think that by now I would be a pro at packing and unpacking and cleaning and organizing...well think again.
Moving is a lot of work, and I tend to put it all off to the last minute every time I have done it. I hate boxes, and I hate cleaning. I hate lifting and stacking. I hate driving and tying things down. I hate packing and unpacking and putting things in their place. I hate every little thing about moving. I hate switching banks and grocery stores. I hate losing things.
It seems like I just cant stay away from moving around, I'm some what of a nomad, constantly changing where I lay my head. And the worst part is I know this isn't going to be my last move.
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