Moving is like squeezing your soul into a cardboard box and drowning it

I'm so glad I'm done moving.  For now.  I'm still having anxiety dreams about moving, especially to Boston in the fall.  Last night, I dreamt that I forgot to take out my furniture, and that I instead just left the state without actually moving anything.  I moved out of my Rochester apartment all of last week, and put everything into a storage unit in the Roc.  Then, I have to come back in August, and get a truck, and move stuff to Boston, which will be scary and complicated, because I theoretically have to go to orientation, or at least audition for orchestra, which all occurs before September 1st, when I have an apartment.  So it's going to be bad and scary and all of those usual things.  But more importantly, I simply don't understand how I seem to acquire more things, even though I buy less things each year.  It's like my possessions become more and more unwieldly each year, and then to get them into a truck is like trying to stuff a sleeping bag into it's microcompact little nylon bag.  It felt really good to be sorting, purging, donating, recycling, but then the box moving came, and it was pretty awful, especially since I did most everything myself.  It was sad to be putting my whole life into a bag or box, through it into another box, and then hope that I wouldn't need it for 10 weeks.  Since I'm going to California after Banff, I had to pack for all sorts of weather possibilities, and also had to bring tons of music.  I never realize how much stuff I have, and how much stuff I need, until I have to put it into a box, and make it weigh less than 50 pounds.
It was definitely an insightful experience.  It made  me want to live in 1997, the era of inflatable furniture and jelly sandals, so that moving would be super easy, even though it could cause chafing and blisters.  I also realize that the platform shoes were pretty tall back then, so any space saved with furniture compactness would be lost with the transport of 3-4 inch platform sandals and 28" bell bottoms.  So maybe it's all relative.  Either way, it was stressful, and damaging (bruises! back pain! sliced off part of my finger!) and I'm looking forward to 2 whole months without moving.

On the bright side, my luggage arrived last night, and now I can brush my teeth.  Don't ever overestimate the joy of dental hygiene.  I am also playing Ligeti tomorrow in a class, and Theofanidis on Thursday, and then I will attack some Takemitsu, in the most flowing, beautiful way possible.