The thing about moving is that it’s hard. It’s physically hard. It’s emotionally hard. It’s just hard.

You put all this effort into it. You find a house to buy. You make an offer. The offer is accepted. And that was all hard enough. But then you discover the hard parts have only just begun.

Packing everything is a colossal pain in the back side. Even if you’ve saved every single box you ever got for the last 27 years (we didn’t actually do that, but we had a LOT of boxes in the basement), you will still come up short. Or you won’t have just the right shape for that cat sculpture you sister gave you. It ended up in one of those cardboard “pet taxis” that the adoption agencies often give to you so you can get your newly adopted cat home with a minimum of fuss and bother and as few cuts and teeth marks as possible. Not sure what the moving company guys thought about that one.

As hard as it is getting everything packed and ready to go, it’s actually harder to unpack everything.

I thought it would be the other way around. During the packing, the biggest decision we had to make was how badly did we need something and did we really want to move it. We got rid of a lot of stuff.

Unpacking, however, requires you figure out where to put what you’ve just unpacked. And since our new house is nothing at all like our old house, it’s been … well, I’ll just say it … hard. I hate to use the same word over and over again, but there you are.

In some ways, it’s exciting. You get to do things in a new way. You get to change up your organization. You get to start fresh.

In some ways, it’s a total pain. You have to figure out new ways to do things. You have to change how you’ve always organized everything. You have to start all over from square one.

Get the picture? If I seem a little conflicted, that would be an understatement.

Still, all in all, I have no regrets.

The thing about moving is that you’ve moved and now you just have to get on with the getting on. But it’s still hard.