#4: Move Your Life: Packout

The doorbell rang at 8:00am sharp, but I didn’t need to look at the clock to know it was the movers. I could hear the massive 14.8-liter Detroit Diesel idling under the hood of the sparkling clean 2016 Freightliner Cascadia semitruck parked in front of my soon-to-be empty house. After the veteran driver gave me a firm handshake, I looked over his shoulder and expressed my hope that a gentleman who is so meticulous with his rig would extend the same care to my belongings. He said with pride, “$55 to get it washed after each cross-country run. $375 when I have it polished. My own money. Show us what you got.” I knew right then I was in good hands.

I had already gone out earlier that morning to buy the crew some refreshments and was finishing the monumentally important task of marking my belongings. It is the nature of movers to take anything not bolted to the home and put it in their truck, no questions asked. This can quickly become a major headache for those of us simultaneously utilizing any two or more of the half-dozen different categories of storage and shipping I discussed in my previous post. Most people use various colors of sticky notes or painter’s tape with a detailed legend that would make even Lewis and Clark proud. This technique works great, assuming the adhesive strips don’t fall off and the movers actually stop to decipher the color key. Since my packout was slated to be rather straightforward, I resorted to an infallible and familiar method of identifying what should be left alone, using what I already had on hand: crime scene tape.

The packout process is immensely stressful and convoluted, as evidenced by the 150-page preparation guide provided to us. I spent 14 hours getting the house ready the day before, with additional time throughout the weeks prior. Then I still made some mistakes (who knew you couldn’t ship something labeled “DANGER – EXTREMELY FLAMMABLE. CONTENTS UNDER PRESSURE. MAY EXPLODE IF HEATED.”). Heeding the words of my more tenured coworkers, there is consolation in knowing the first move is usually the most difficult. Good or bad, it is now off my plate.

As I later stood in my echoey living room devoid of all furniture and personal effects watching the colossal tractor-trailer disappear around a corner, I couldn’t help but think to myself, “Well, I guess we’re doing this.”

Now, if only I had a place to sit…