How to Move 250+ Books Across States

Moving sucks, especially leaving a place you’ve been for 5 years.

There’s this really cool thing that comes with being unemployed. No, not the not getting paid thing. It’s the ‘what now’ part of it that’s really awesome. It’s the change in your routine. It’s the feeling guilty about spending time that you used to spend being productive sitting in bed and watching TV. The really cool thing, however, is the ‘oh shit, how am I supposed to live’ moment.

Here’s the really stupid thing about life; it costs money. Everything costs money. I’m not even sure how that happened. The only thing that doesn’t cost money is breathing (I’ve seen my water bill, that’s not free either even though it most definitely should be). You guys, I’m pretty sure I’m legally blind and I have to pay a buttload of money to be told that, 1. I’m probably legally blind and 2. I now need glasses or lenses to be able to see the world in a relatively normal fashion. I don’t know when you last got your eyes checked but that shit’s expensive. Bless our parents for deciding that children are worth the cost because when it feels like spending your own money is 2x more it’s actual worth I would not be paying for a freeloader to go buy two pairs of glasses because they can’t choose between colors (sorry parents, this is the first year I paid for my own glasses so now I know).

Anyway, back to my original point—everything except for breathing costs money (unless you need an inhaler and at that point I’m sorry dude but I can’t help you, you are not the chosen one, please just sit down). When everything costs money, and you’re not making any; where am I supposed to live? How am I expected to pay rent in this economy? Why did I choose Seattle which is one of the most expensive cities to live in? What am I supposed to eat? I could live on ramen and eggs. Oh shit no, eggs are now 10 dollars a dozen. Where did the avian flu come from? Is it over yet? Will it ever be over? I can’t keep paying this obscene amount of money on eggs… and the questions never really end. Like truly, I could keep going, it’s just a bottomless pit of questions in my brain, it’s kind of a scary place to live, but that’s for another day.

That’s my super long-winded way of saying—I need to move. Now, my recent fate in the corporate ‘who should we let go of next’ roulette is not the only thing that led to this decision, while it did speed up the timeline, there were a lot of factors that went into it. However, it all boiled down to the fact that I just need to be around family. I need to be around people that are bound by our shared blood to love me. Jokes. I need to be around people that love me and support me but will also push me when I’m being lazy and combative. I need to be in a safe space where I’m allowed to behave like a little bit of a child because honestly, I’ve never been in this position before and I don’t know how to deal with it like an adult and so I need help. But mostly, I just need to know that I’m in a safe and happy space (Ok enough being sappy, how will everyone know that I’m a tough man(lol, I crack myself up sometimes)).

This leads me to my conundrum. I am not a minimalist. I am the extreme opposite of a minimalist. I am a super maximalist. I am a dragon and all my things are my treasure. I am Gollum and my things are my precious. I think I’ve made my point. In the spirit of all the maximalism I have managed to amass quite the collection in 5 years. I have many clothes, I have many trinkets, and I have MANY books. If I had never bought a single one of these books, I’d probably be able to afford living in Seattle by myself with no job for a whole year (this is a gross exaggeration, it would probably be 2 months which is still a lot). That said, I would NOT go back in time and not buy any of these books, purchasing books is pretty much instant serotonin, reading said books causes many different emotions and joy is not always the most prevalent emotion during the reading of the books but it’s definitely the most prevalent emotion 3-5 business days after I’ve finished and processed the book. WOO I’m tired just from typing that out can you imagine if I had to say all that. For the record, another thing I’m good at—tangents. We’ve been on several already.

Back to the point. I am moving in a month. I come with many things. About 70% of which are books (this may also be a gross exaggeration but I am nothing if not dramatic). The problem with moving books is that they are heavy and they contain multitudes (read: they take up space). And the obvious solution is that movers need to be hired for the sole purpose of transporting these books to my new domicile. This would be super helpful because then the other 30% of my treasure can hitch a ride with my books. This is a really great solution to my problem, however, I recently decided that I wanted to try to be a different person and not be SUCH a maximalist because I was overwhelmed by all the THINGS in my room. Yes, paradox, I see it too. This is a problem because I become emotionally attached to inanimate objects. The entirety of the time that I spent on cleaning was a tug of war between, 'I have not used this in the entire two years that I have lived here’ and ‘what if I need this tomorrow and I decide to throw it out today’. Again, my brain = super fun place to live (read: sarcasm).

The entirety of this post is pretty much a chance for me to complain about the fact that I’m having a hard time leaving a city that helped shape me, a city where I made lifelong friends, a city where I grew up and learned how to be a grown up, a place I call home. So instead of talking about how I’ve been looking out the window on busses instead of doomscrolling, taking pictures whenever I pass a place I love or see a pretty tree (so PNW of me), or checking items off my ‘before I leave Seattle’ list, pre-mourning missing my friends and the people who made this place home, I’m talking about all the reasons it makes sense to go. And this includes more space for my books to live.

Moving sucks, even when you’re moving to people you love deeply, moving away from home sucks. I truly did not realize how much of a space I’d made for myself here until I focused on all the things I wanted to do before I left and all the people I needed to see before I left.

I’m not really sure if there was a point to all this (there was I’m just having some trouble finding and defining it), but it did feel really good to put this all down. Hopefully I’m entertaining enough that the 10 minutes you spent reading this was worth it. If not you can charge me for your time (this is 100% a joke because, as we know, I am, in fact, broke).

Thank you ladies and gentleman, I’ve been Sanjana Prasad, and that’s my time.