For this move and the last one, I have needed others to do the move for me.
In 2002, my back wasn't so bad, but I was a few months into what would be a prolonged major breakdown (it lasted until early 2005).
Back then, most of the packing I could and did do myself; and all of the cleaning. Organization I needed help with. My mind was falling apart.
Back then, I had more stuff; hard-cover and paperback books, for example, leftovers from my graduate years. Still, it took the movers only 30 minutes to move me out and into my new place, this little apartment.
Now I have e-books and an e-library. No books to consume box after box, or to haul.
Now, my back limits what I can do; and the pain and the medication for it combine to discombobulate me as much as my breakdown did in 2002.
Some light cleaning and dusting I still insist on doing.
Damn it, I enjoy taking care of my little home! And I hate a dirty - or disorganized or cluttered - place. Therefore, given there's no choice, I'll continue doing light housekeeping until this body refuses my will's determination.
I concede that major cleaning, though, is out. Packing also should be out, given the micro movements involved.
(Would you believe me if I told you that folding laundry is one of the most painful activities for me? No, I didn't think so. But it's true.)
To hell with the back; I will pack two boxes anyway. There are two empty ones sitting right here. They're too tempting to leave alone. They'll therefore be packed ahead of my friends Daphne and Daisy arriving; who, together, have organized the entire move for me.
Let me not forget Peter and one of his buddies either: 'the movers'. Or Pam, who lives in the same building I'm moving to and who will be hosting yours truly while friends Daphne, Daisy and Peter take care of everything else. Or a person whose name I do not know; someone who, I hear from Daphne today, will donate to have this place professionally cleaned - so that not a dime of my deposit is withheld by my current landlord.
I was going to do as much cleaning as possible before my friends arrived on moving day, June 25th. This is despite Daisy having told me that she and Daphne were going to do the cleaning and I was not to do it. Perhaps my friends knew what I would do and that's why the professional cleaning is to be arranged.
Regardless, the news comes as a tremendous relief.
I admit it. I hated the idea of my friends having to clean up after me. Which is why I would have pushed myself beyond endurance. By the end of that week, I'd have been so hunched over and crippled by my activities, it would have taken another week to straighten myself out.