Last week, I moving out of my apartment and moving into my new home in Streamwood, IL. I'm very excited to be in my new place. It's great to have a home. But I was just thinking about how taxing a move can be on a person. This is something like my 15th move in 12 years, so I should be much more used to it, but I'm not.
For me, I began boxing all of my possessions last Wednesday, boxed all day and continued boxing every free moment I had through Friday evening. I picked up a 17 foot Uhaul truck early Saturday morning, began loading it around 10:30 (with the help of about 10 good friends), and finished by 1:00. We arrived in Streamwood by 2:00 and unloaded the whole truck into my new place in alittle over an hour. I returned the Uhaul, picked up a few odds and ends, and set up my bed in just enough time to crash on it 'til morning. Sunday morning I picked up the Waterfront trailer to setup for church (and I totally had an awesome servant's attitude about that too :)) at about 6:45, worked and worshipped, and then dropped the trailer off by 1:00. Then immediately, I drove back down to Aurora to finish cleaning my former apartment and box the last of my stuff. I started cleaning around 3:30 and left about 7:30. That's right, 7:30.
Since that time, I have unboxed, bought furnishings, constructed cheap target furnishings, moved furnishings, hooked up electronics, broken down boxes, etc., etc., etc. And amazingly, I am still not relaxed. The funny thing about a move is that I cannot take my mind off the move until the very last picture is hung, and the very last box is unpacked. I'm compulsive that way. And it's taxing . . . mentally and physically. I'm happy to be here. But I HATE moving.