I hate packing.
I dislike many things; ironing, doing the dishes and making the bed being the first three that spring to mind. But there are very few things I actually hate in this world. Packing and moving house is definitely one of them though.
For those of you that know me this may come as somewhat of a shock. Since moving out of my parents home at the age of 20 I've lived in no fewer than 12 different "homes", one of them being a static caravan with paper-thin walls in the middle of November.
When you've got ice forming on the inside of your windows that's a pretty good sign you probably should start looking for somewhere else to live... In fact its a pretty good sign you should find anywhere else to live.
But despite living in 1.2 properties per year for the last 10 years, or to look at it another way spending an average of just 10 months in one place, I am moving yet again. And as I've said with each of my previous moves this will be the last time.
Of course I don't actually believe that. But I'm hoping my nomadic 20s will be replaced by a more settled decade that will be my 30s. I am now a married man after all and I need to start thinking about married man stuff. I'm not completely sure what that stuff is, I've been married just over a month, but I'm pretty certain it all starts with putting down roots and having somewhere to call home.
As I sit here in my flat surrounded by half packed boxes and half empty book cases I wonder where I'll be in 12 months time. Will it be worth spending the next year unpacking my stuff only to have to re-pack it all again to move somewhere new?
Its a question only time will answer. But for now I'd better empty the rest of those shelves... I hate packing!
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