I hate packing
by Susan W. Goldstein

I was born in Washington, DC. Then my family moved to Ft. Worth, Texas; Mercer Island, WA; Palo Alto, CA; University City, MO; Chevy Chase, MD; Creve Coeur, MO. Then to Greencastle, IN (college) followed by Indianapolis, IN, where I shifted between four apartments. There I met my first husband. We bought a home in Zionsville, IN, before his job took us to: Chicago, IL; St. Louis, MO; Paramus, NJ; Cooper City, FL; Mountain Brook, AL; Houston, TX; back to Cooper City, FL. Sadly, two different homes after the divorce. Next up: Delray Beach, FL with my new husband; now to another house in same city, with same husband.

No, I was not an Army Brat, which is the usual assumption. I’m just here for the ride. You would think that, after all of those relocations, I should be adept at organizing a move. I’m not. The mere thought of packing throws me into a maelstrom of stress and despair. I hyperventilate at the sight of luggage.

I like the results of moving…making new friends, sampling new restaurants and museums. That part is fun.

But I hate packing.

With a passion. With a passionate passion.

I hate packing.

I procrastinate until the movers are at the door. Only then do I begin throwing random items into boxes and marking them “Susan’s Shit,”“Misc. Crap,” “More Crappola.” This is so unhelpful when it’s time to instruct the movers where to place said boxes. “I dunno, leave ’em in the garage.”

Corporate moves are the best. Somebody else does the packing! Even though one time I opened a box that held the kitchen garbage can, complete with the now stinking bag of garbage.

If only moves generated Frequent Flyer points, I would have enough to travel the world. Or stay at home.

PHOTO: Example of the author’s packing prowess.

NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: This writing opportunity could not have come at a more opportune time. I would so much rather be typing than packing for my  big move.


Peripatetic author Susan W. Goldstein has indeed lived in 26 different domiciles and refuses to pick up a paint brush ever again. Let the walls remain whatever godforsaken color the former owner had chosen. She has been published a couple of times before in Silver Birch Press, plus Mothers Always Write, and Mamaload. She, like most Americans, is working on a novel.