Move B*tch, Get Out Da Way

Its official.

I am not moving home.

Insert your “Kristin, why is your life always full of moving drama?” reaction here.

Instead of moving home to the metropolis that is Sudbury, Massachusetts [famous for Babe Ruth and his piano, a recent accused terrorist, and, well, nothing else], I will be staying in the town that has become the hub of my 20-somethings, Charlestown.

This top of the ninth plan came about when a friend of mine decided to pick up and move to Vail (we will miss you, Clark!), leaving her room vacant and completely and totally available for me. Needless to say, this directly correlates to my not saying “rabbit rabbit” this month.

Moving in completely removes my fears of social isolation, what I like to call the “I don’t want to trek all the way into Boston” syndrome [which would most certainly set in Week 2 of living at home with my parents.] This also completely does away with my need for a storage unit, but more importantly eliminates my newest phobia: storage unit bed bugs.

This is great! Right? I mean I no longer have anything to obsess over!

Please, like that was actually going to happen.

Now instead of googling “how to bed bug proof a mattress” or “techniques to help you fall asleep when you are up thinking about all of the awful things that could be happening to your possessions whilst in said self storage unit,” I have now resorted to googling “small space storage solutions.”

Yes, my new room is tiny: positive because it gives me less room to crap up, but negative because ohmygodIhavesomuchstuff anixetyanxietyanxiety.

The obvious solution? Measure said closet of a room, obsessively mentally place, re-place, and re-re-place my furniture in my mock room so I can be ready for move-in, and learn everything I can about cute/trendy/incredibly practical storage solutions.

This goes back to my whole problem of unrealistic expectations.

Kristin, your small space is not going to look like the examples shown on the Pottery Barn, or even Ikea, website. Should you try to recreate it, you will end up with an expensive, awkward looking mockery. You would be one of those girls. The same girls who wear way too much Lily and pearls.

My new approach? Use what you have, and attempt to not over plan. Right, we will see how long that lasts.

Lets try to not scare off the new roommates before I even move in, but stay tuned for the morbid/stressful/anxious details that make up moving anywhere.