Last Friday, the shipping company (VikingInternationalMoving.com) came to get the (waaaaaay too many) boxes I packed to send to my new home in Tallinn, Estonia. The guys were absolutely great, and I felt incredibly comfortable to know that not only did they treat these boxes as something important, but that they also packed the shipping container themselves, not leaving it the port guys. The guy who did the main moving/packing thinks he recognized me from “back in the day” at Uni. I have zero memory of him, but it was fun to think about those early days I was in New York.
Lots of boxes were moved to their van. Seven of those were books – 21 square feet (1.9 square meters!!). Not a chance I could even move those boxes on my own..and yet they lifted them as if they were filled with just air.
I know I packed too much.
However, I decided that if I felt I wanted the item – that lovely vase, my shower curtain, the quilts – I didn’t want to be without them. I am moving to a new home, where I want my things for my home. Yeah.. I understand that “things are just things”. But that quilt gives me joy and makes me feel good and comfortable. It was the first thing that had color that I bought in 2006, after many years of zero color allowed in my life. Beautiful. Orange. Lovelyness.
Not a single thing I packed was less than that. If it did not make me happy, it didn’t come. And holy shit.. a lot of stuff didn’t make it (the Christmas Tree Shop duck that I apparently needed, as an example). To prove that, the 1800GotJunk.com guys came on Saturday and removed all the remaining things – sofa, shelves, tables, etc.
My rooms now have an echo.
Some things were packed and sent to Estonia because my husband wanted them:
All in all, the lead up to the boxes being sent on, and the junk guys coming to pick up everything else was highly stressful. As I packed, or threw out/donated, there were both the feelings of excitement and sorrow. But after everything was gone, a sense of relief that came over me was incredibly powerful. A huge giant weight off my shoulders. I was “Snoopy” like…
Now.. the countdown to my flight to Tallinn, to my husband, and my new home is a bit endless. 20 days seems like 6 months. 18 days is absolutely endless.