Good god no. Moving is utterly terrible. I'm a slob with low energy levels in the first place, except where something (never cleaning) randomly piques my interest; then I shoot knowledge like a drug until it crashes.
It's not just that I have insufficient energy to move and even attempting it is physically unpleasant, though that is true in the extreme. It is that I get to stare all my glaring inadequacies in the face as I do it. I have to randomly throw amazing science demonstrations together with fragile expensive ones and glassware and all sorts of other things. Meanwhile there's a whole bunch of possibly worthless things that might at some point be useful, so that usually gets moved too.
All my stuff adds up to markedly more than I've actually made, due to the easy availability of credit to people who shouldn't have it, and an escalating series of Amazon and eBay purchases that have brought in a series of hypomanic episodes have brought me to the brink of bankruptcy*. All of this stuff has to go too. Also, there's a lot of outright garbage, and deciding what is what is difficult. Creating any sort of organization besides just throwing stuff I want to keep into boxes and anything I don't into trash bags is completely out of the question. Towards the end, boxes run out and trash bags become the main thing I use to move. I have to remember which trash bags contain trash and which ones contain what I want to keep, and at least one ends up as a jumble of the two. At least one valuable bag is always thrown away by accident.
I find the sustained physical exertion very difficult. What's more, I have serious trouble cleaning. Part of this is because there's a lot of gunk and hairballs and whatnot when you don't regularly clean up after yourself. The other part is that I have no idea what constitutes most people's standard of cleanliness; most people themselves disagree among each other, too. Suffice to say that my cleaning is always inadequate.
Moves I'm making or involved in, this year alone, include:
- Moving from my apartment to my parents' place that they had just started moving into as well, closing only a few days before I got there.
- Assisting the parents' move, but not by much because of my weaknesses. They have insane piles of stuff, two or more orders of magnitude more than I do, because they are middle-class Baby Boomers aged 58 and 60. And they care deeply about where it goes, too.
- [part of #2] Someone apparently told that generation that the meaning of life is to collect as much stuff as possible over their lifetimes. This is the most unsatisfying "meaning of life" I have ever heard of, including the ones involving killing lots of people. At least the latter is compatible with the desires of the human brain as it evolved.
- [part of #2 and #3] The result is that humans, adapted for a world full of meaning with not very much stuff, end up with a world full of stuff with virtually no meaning. This is really bad. If you want to laugh at human suffering caused by the worst cases of this, watch Hoarders.
- The next move. Within one week, 10 days tops I will have to have found roommates in Champaign/Urbana and move in with them from Normal. Luckily there are online roommate match programs, which is what I am going to be doing starting as soon as I come back from my group meeting. I got a very late start on this and have already lost $380 to stay 5 nights in a motel the first week of classes.
These moves involved a triangle of small cities in C. Illinois, namely Decatur, Bloomingon/Normal, and Champaign/Urbana, all about one hours' drive from each other. So this is actually fairly minor compared to what moves can be.
There have been far worse moves, such as when the whole family moved from S. Indiana to Rhode Island, then moved to C. IL one year later. Or the time I ditched a low-end physics grad program in Portland, Oregon and drove a Priusload of stuff 2/3 of the way across the country to Decatur, IL at the height of winter in mid-January.
In that move, I nearly died several times, and nearly ended up in snowdrifts several other times. The worst was when I was summiting the highest Wyoming mountain pass on I-80 at night during a snowstorm at 8600 ft on January 12, 2011. Had I been stranded, I might have been seen, and had I managed to place a phone call in a poor-reception area, I might have gotten out that way. But if not, hypothermia would have been a big deal. Somehow I muddled through it and got to the other side. Never have I been so happy to see Cheyenne, Wyoming. And then the snow ended and the ice storm started near the Nebraska line. Never have I been so happy to see a Motel 6 in the middle of nowhere in western Nebraska, which miraculously still had a few empty rooms. Weather conditions were similar for the next two days, with many more near-strandings and near-crashes across the lengths of Nebraska and Iowa.
tl;dr: Moving sucks syphilitic donkey dong.