Movin' right along...

My 2018 ended with a purchase of a new home, while much of 2019 (thus far) was spent packing up the old place and moving into the new one. (I dare not use the term "unpacking" as my office/studio room is still filled with clutter yet to be organized.)

The last time I moved was four years ago, into a lovely 2-bedroom apartment in Sierra Madre, CA. As I was fairly happy there, I told myself I wouldn't move out unless I experienced either a significant life change, or California's plate tectonics deemed it absolutely necessary. Fortunately, it was a life change for the better.

For my previous move, I took a week off work, and had everything ready for a housewarming party a few weeks later. But moving into this new townhouse took a lot more out of me, and it wasn't suitable for visitors until an Easter housewarming dinner more than three months later. Even though this move involved a lot of help and more time to prepare, it was an absolutely exhausting experience -- and far more stressful than any of the previous four moves of my adult life. I could blame it on the sheer enormity of stuff I own, but I'd be avoiding a (literally) painful truth: I'm out of shape, middle aged, and the passing years are taking their toll. Never do I wish to move again...unless another life change is in store.

I love the new place, though. It has everything I could ever want, except a lower mortgage. And if the center of Malebolge marks the Ninth Circle of Hell, I think Circle Ten must be a garage filled with over a hundred boxes of disorganized junk.