I don’t know about you, but if there’s one thing I’ve done and disliked in the past, it’s moving. I only moved once, from the cozy mom nest to an apartment with my boyfriend and.. well.. let’s just say I already hated putting everything in boxes back then. I didn’t even have a third of the stuff I have now and – yup – we’re moving again!
I seriously hope it’ll be the last time we ever move because I hate it. Having to go through every little thing, deciding whether or not to keep it, wrapping it all up carefully in hopes of nothing getting ruined by the time you have to unpack.. And that’s not even mentioning books. Because, of course, those have to move as well!
The whole packing of my books was.. quite the experience. The moment you start, everything is still going pretty okay but then the roller coaster sets off and..
- Then you see all your shelves becoming “uncreative” with all the decorations gone.
- You start putting away the books you’ve actually read and realize how small that amount is compared to the unread books.
- Time to pack those favorite books! Biggest struggle ever because you definitely don’t want those to get damaged in any way!
- ALL THE UNREAD BOOKS. This is where my horror truly started.
- Having to decide which ones to pack up and which ones to leave because you might pick them up soon.
- Sifting through them over and over again in hopes of making that pile of unread books smaller but you barely succeed since “who knows if you’ll suddenly be in the mood for this one or that one?!”
- When you’ve finally succeeded – it took me weeks and I still have an entire case full – you feel like crying seeing all those empty shelves.
- Crying some more when you have to disassemble the book cases that are actually empty.
Now? Now it hurts my little heart every time I stare at the spot where there used to be four book cases and only one remains. One filled with plenty of reading options, sure, but.. I’ve already cursed myself for packing certain unread books and I’ve no clue in what box they are.
Dinner time? Pretty depressing time since I always had the perfect view on my books and now.. I’m staring at an empty wall. Should I even admit how we’ve been eating on the couch simply because I’m avoiding the dinner table?
It honestly does feel as if a piece of me is missing ever since I packed up so many of my books and moved my disassembled cases to another room. It’ll be a while still before I have my library back, but.. as you know I’ve already been dreaming about how it’ll look.
I cannot wait!
Have you ever had to move? How did you handle packing up your books?
Did you get the urge to buy new books so you have more options again?
Or is that just me..?