There’s nothing like packing to move to bring out your inner misanthrope. Staring at piles of your own stuff you begin to hate yourself (why, why, why did I buy these things? Keep these books? Choose this furniture? I am solely responsible for the global consumption epidemic.) Attempting to sell things you don’t want to take with you to other people makes you hate the world. This is always the part in the moving process where I want to set everything I own alight and take to the open road with nothing but a knapsack.
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