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The last time I counted, I have moved 25 times in my life. This week will make my 26th. I'm 27 years old. The longest I have ever stayed in one house was five years. Of course, this means that there are a few years of my life that I have moved more than once.
I hate moving. I'm pretty good at it, though. Doing it so often has kind of made the process mechanical for me. I don't wrap up every plate and glass, I just arrange them all so that they won't fall. It's funny when other people help me pack. They're always so careful with things. There's no need to spend an hour packing up a box of breakables if you can just be careful when you carry it and save yourself the time. The stuff is only going to break if you drop the box anyway. Just don't drop it.
One of these days, I would like to settle down in a place that I'm not going to leave for a long time. After Joe gets here next summer and gets a position somewhere, I will be moving again. That one will be much less stressful, though, and I am already looking forward to it. Most of my stuff will still be packed from this move. I usually only unpack about 40% of my stuff when I move, hopeful that I won't move again soon but expecting that I will. Because I'll be moving in with my parents this time, I won't have to unpack much at all. Clothes, toiletries, books and electronics.
When people ask me why I've moved so much I tell them that my parents were in the Air Force, and they nod knowingly. They were, but we were stationed on a base and didn't move off of it until they retired. It's just easier to explain things that way. Everyone assumes that Air Force personnel get moved around a lot. Compared to me, they don't. At least not in my experience.
