The recent move reminded me of how the stress associated with it can change me from a relaxed, calm, mild-mannered fellow who uses swear words very sparingly, to a sleep-deprived hothead whose foul mouth could have him locked up in a confessional for hours.
Even though I thought that I was pretty well-organized from the very beginning and mindfully committing time consistently to the packing process, the journey still presented its share of unexpected surprises.
When that happened, when combined with the looming deadline of the closing date, anything that required extra time for which I hadn’t budgeted became a trigger for a swear word… or two… or three.
But in the privacy of my own home, with the windows closed, who would know the difference?
Have you ever tried to neatly pack a set of anything, only to discover you are missing one piece? And then you locate the missing piece within five minutes of sealing the box? And then there isn’t enough room in the box when trying to add the piece to keep the set together?
Have you ever packed something with full conviction that you wouldn’t need it until after the move, only to realize you needed it a day or two later? When Mother Nature kept changing her mind and kept returning to frosty temperatures, it was a challenge to try to get the winter gear washed and definitively packed.
During my packing, there were many boxes for which I was mentally high-fiving myself for achieving a perfect Tetris game for my optimal use of space within a box. And then there were the ones that weren’t so perfect that had me persistently attempting to repack the box multiple times. What it is about packing that brings out a streak so competitive that we won’t let ourselves be defeated by a cardboard box? Continue reading