I never intended to move this much. Honestly, we never intended to move this much. And we'd probably still be living in apartment #2 if our downstairs neighbour over there hadn't been so determined to smoke us out. (Which she did, most effectively.)
So, in eight years of marriage, this is move #4. And I would be less annoyed about this (and less tired just thinking about it) if I didn't know that move #5 is looming on the very, very close horizon.
You see, we don't move just because it seems like fun. (We know better.) And despite all appearances to the contrary, we don't move just to get rid of stuff. (While it is a nice side effect, we are actually quite capable of getting rid of stuff without changing venues.) We only move when the correct set of circumstances comes our way; for instance, when we have a downstairs neighbour who is a prolific smoker and we can't breathe in our own apartment without coughing.
In this instance, we can get a better short-term option across town, and because we aren't sure what we will be doing in 6 months' time, we aren't willing to commit to another 12-month lease.
Which is a real bummer.
So, I'm wrapping up my knickknacks in cushion-y stuff (read: clothes), making a stack of things I'd like to give away, and throwing away anything that I don't want and can't imagine anyone else wanting, either. And I'm tempted to phone Goodwill & offer them the entire contents of my apartment.
But blogging about it saves my sanity. :)