21 photo frames.

Yes, I have 21 photo frames, about 15 of them haven't had the picture changed since 8th grade. Who knew that down-sizing photo frames would be the most daunting task of moving back into my room permanently?

Look at this mess, come on, you're jealous.

 

Even though I'm moving back into a room for potentially a long time, I can't help but dread packing and un-packing. For the last 4 years, I have packed up and un-packed my life. I've moved plastic bins filled with clothes, books, dvds, picture frames and anything else you can imagine in and out of 2 dorm rooms, in and out of a summer beach house, in and out of 2 apartments, in and out of my parents home time and time again. Any college student reading this feels my pain. 

It's not the act of packing that frustrates me, it's the fact that it brings out the worst in me. I never procrastinate more than when I need to pack and un-pack. I'm not talking vacation suitcases and weekend bag packing, but the moving to a new place  kind of packing. I look over old journals, read old notes and really do anything from keeping me to do the dreaded task.

Actually, I just realized that while this huge mess is in front of me, I'm sitting in front of it blogging about it instead of actually doing it. Case and point.

But maybe it's not the physical act of packing that makes this necessary chore such a difficult thing for me, and many others, to complete. Maybe it's that little piece inside everyone that resists change with everything in them.

I can't say this as 'matter of fact,' because I've never moved out of any place that I was desperately looking forward to moving out of. Every time I've moved, I've been happy, I've been content, I didn't need things to change. I've been forced to move because of school starting and ending, but if Penn State didn't make me move out of my dorm freshman year, I'd say there's a chance I'd still be living in Tener Hall with Pam. I loved freshman year of college, I didn't want it to end so I remember packing to go home was a two-week (i'm not kidding) process.

Hindsight is always 20/20 and I can see now that moving in and out each year was necessary and good, as each year of college was better than the one before it.

And isn't that how change usually is? We hate it when it's happening, but are so thankful for it when we look back.

So, as I sit in my messy, un-organized and unpacked room, it's possible that I don't want to move back here because it means that college is over; it's possible that part of me hates the idea of getting a far away job in a few months and doing this again; it's possible that I'm overly sentimental and should never be left alone with 21 photo frames, a box of high school notes and Ingrid Michaelson on loop in an emotional post-grade state (ooops).

Whatever the reason is why I hate moving so much, I can rest in the fact that every move I've made so far has been a good one. Every year, every new dorm and every apartment brought with it new people, new memories, new joys, new ideas and new understandings of who I am.

So even though I legitimately believe that packing is of the devil, moving on is a good thing. Change keeps the world turning, and even though I don't always like it, I'm happy to be moving along with it.

Obvious song choice for today: The Travel Song