Stages of Packing

After moving sixteen times in my life, I don’t stop my pride in saying that I’ve got some tricks under my belt.  (Is that the common phrase?  Who knows, it doesn’t even make sense.)  Tuesday I officially move out of Stover 3216.  It’s been a great year, Helaman Halls, and I’ll definitely miss it.  My freshman year at BYU has many memories with these amazing friends that I wouldn’t trade for anything.  But enough with the sap, this isn’t a maple tree.  Let’s keep the mood light and talk about the different stages of packing and moving.  Luckily, my small dorm room doesn’t take as long to pack up as a full house, so packing time is significantly less than previous moves.  Here are the stages I’ve often experienced in moving and packing (in no particular order):

The Prepared Stage:

You get really ambitious and start packing a month before.  This winter coat?  Don’t need it—it’s going in the box.  (Only to have it snow two weeks later.)  Extra towel?  Going in the box.  Extra blanket and extra lamp?  Both going in the boxes.  Anything of excess is going in the box—you don’t need them anyway.  You feel very proud that you’re on top of it and packing in advance, even if it is the things you don’t need.  If you didn’t need clothes, you’re sure that you’d be completely packed by the end of the day!

The Mourning Stage:

You realize how much you’re going to miss this new home you’ve created for yourself.  No matter how long you’ve lived there, it’s been your legit home, and it’s difficult to say goodbye.  Goodbye to your bed, your ward, your school, your friends, or whatever you’re leaving.  You cry.  Sometimes a lot.  Tears are ok.  Just don’t stay in this stage too long, or else you’re going to need waterproof makeup.  Packing doesn’t happen during this stage because you’re denying your departure.  Or lots of packing happens because it’s strangely the only thing you can do to distract yourself from the goodbye.

The Music Stage:

One of my favorite stages.  You blast your music loud, and you pack.  You secretly wish you had more things to pack so that you could jam out to your music longer.  You pack your hairbrush last because, of course, you’ve been using it as a microphone this whole time.  You realize you’ve been singing and dancing more than you’ve been packing, but you rationalize that it’s ok because it’s therapy for your mourning stage.  If you stay in this stage long enough, you’ll be singing along to musicals. (Santa Fe! Are you there, do you swear you won’t forget me? Bonus points if you’re moving to Sante Fe. #currentlyinaNewsiesobssession) 

The Netflix Stage:

You realize that you can watch Netflix while packing.  It won’t distract you, right?  Right.  Turn on The Office or Parks and Rec and in an hour, you’ve watched three episodes and have put five shirts in a box.  You feel proud that you’ve accomplished that much.  You rationalize your TV distraction by saying that you’re learning important lessons from your favorite characters about moving and meeting new people.  You’ll definitely need these lessons wherever you’re going.

The Eating Stage:

You realize you can’t bring all your food with your move, so you try and eat as much as you can.  You discover new combinations that you never thought were possible.  Trust me, there’s plenty of ways to eat a tortilla.  Not only do you feel creative in your new recipes, but you feel a strange sense of accomplishment.  You end up throwing away most of the food anyway. 

This stage can also apply to the best distractor: food.  Why pack when you can eat?  Exactly.  

The Denial Stage:

You’re about halfway packing and realize you have plenty of time to pack.  You’re leaving in two days, but you can pack in the morning when you leave.  It did take you a long time to pack that first half of the room, but this second half won’t take long at all.  You’re an experienced packer.  You’re perfectly fine.

The Regret/Procrastinator Stage:

 You realize you are not an experienced packer, no matter how many times you’ve moved.  It hits you that you have one night left to pack, so you stay up until two packing the rest of your room.  You play music until your family/friends go to bed.  You take a quick ice cream break that is most likely twenty-two minutes long (the exact length of a Friends episode, but that’s not relevant), or you decide that this is the perfect time to have a conversation about where your life is going with your mom or a heart-to-heart with your best friend.  Unfortunately, neither work, and you’re back to packing.  You ALMOST finish, but decide to finish in the morning, get a good night’s sleep, and go to bed.  Except you don’t go to sleep.  You reward yourself with another episode of Friends. (You just have to see what happens to Ross and Rachel!  Will Rachel finally admit they were on a break?  Will Ross stop Rachel at the airport?  When will Janice show up??  Questions that must be answered at 2:30 a.m. the night before you embark on your moving journey.  Who cares about a good night’s rest at this point?  You comfort yourself that you can sleep in the car.  You secretly know you can’t.)   

The Completion Stage:

Yes, you finally finish packing.  You stand in the doorway and say your secret goodbyes to your room and to your favorite shower in the dorms.  If you don’t cry, you’re secretly disappointed.  If you do cry, you wonder why because you’re pretty sure you cried more tears than your body could hold back in the mourning stage.   You remember that cheesy Dr. Seuss quote that says, “Don’t cry because it’s over.  Smile because it happened.”  As profound as that quote is, you decide you need to get some better inspirational quotes.  You walk out your front door and wave goodbye to the house as you pass the curve in the road.  (After all, it is tradition.  As cheesy as it is that houses can’t wave back, you know that house and you will always have a special bond.  Channeling my inner Ever After, for it is tradition to wave at the gate!  Can you tell quoting movies is my way to cope with moving?  I hope I make Drew Barrymore proud when I say that I truly lived here at BYU my freshman year.) 

Who knows?  I’ve never packed up a dorm room before, so maybe I’ll have to add on to my list of packing stages.  Will I regret living on the third floor as I lug my suitcases down three flights?  No, but I will definitely question my judgment.  Will I miss showering in a public shower at the same time as four other people?  No, but I will miss shouting very important discussion topics at Lindsay as we showered at the same time (in different showers, mind you).  Will I miss barging into room 3221?  Yes, but I’m sure Megan and Faith won’t miss me doing that.  Stover 3200, it’s been real.  Peace and blessings.