Cafe in the Woods

I move a lot. I was an Army brat, that's expected. But I've moved more since becoming an adult. As an Army brat I moved about once every two and a half years; as an adult, it's one move every twenty months.

I feel like I am in a good position to declare that moving sucks.

However. I've been remarkably stable lately. The three and a half years I've been at Corvaric are now the longest I've lived in a single place as an adult, and the third-longest in my life. (Four years in a townhouse outside of DC for high school, preceded by the five worst years of my life in Fayetteville NC in late elementary and junior high.) I was in the same apartment complex for the almost-five years I lived in northern Virginia right after college, but I changed apartments to move in with Emily halfway through that.

This also pushes my total time in the lower mainland (the Vancouver area) above the eleven years I spent in Blacksburg VA. (The longest I've spent in any one locale is still northern Virginia, at not quite twelve years, spread across three separate occasions.)

Sure, I'd rather stay in the same place, put down roots, all that. Just never seems to quite come together for me. There's always a good reason to move: money, or job, or relationship, or just "this place is terrible." This time I'm betting it'll be money, though it might be any of the above.

No real point to this. I'm not moving imminently. It's just interesting to look back at where I've been, and for how short a time.

Although moving DOES suck.