I hate to move. The actual physical labor is bad enough - packing everything into boxes, lifting and hauling heavy loads up and down stairs, the copious amounts of dust generated, etc. - but I hate moving mostly because it forces me to confront the amount of junk I still carry around. As Brad Pitt said as Tyler Durden in the film Fight Club, "You got to be careful or else the stuff you own will end up owning you."
But on Friday the 13th of August, I found myself once again having to move. Marshalling what little energy I had left after the trip to Budapest, I managed to pack all of my books, clothes, kitchenware, linens, wall hangings, lamps, toys, sporting goods, electronics, knick-knacks, bric-brac, and other consumer goods, hire four strong-armed men and a truck, and move everything form the unsellable condo in Vinings, where I had lived since January 2000, to my new house in Collier Hills, which, as Tom Wolfe points out repeatedly in A Man in Full, is not Buckhead. But the fact that it's not Buckhead is part of the reason that I like it.
Depsite all of my dread, however, the move went pretty smoothly. Since Vinings and Collier Hills are only 5 miles apart, the movers had fininshed the job by 2:30 p.m., leaving me with a house full of boxes, which in turn were full of my books, clothes, kitchenware, linens, wall hangings, lamps, toys, sporting goods, electronics, knick-knacks, bric-brac, and other consumer goods which now own me.