The Frustrations of Moving (Part Two)

A few weeks ago, I wrote a Corner post titled “The Five Worst Things About Moving.” Please permit me to publish a borderline inciting second rant, this time with a greater emphasis on moving in.

1. When you arrive to an empty unit with nothing but your clothes and small electronics, as I did, it adds up pretty quickly to just buy the basics. Even purchasing the cheapest options of the necessary home supplies — drinking glasses, soap, laundry detergent, and so on — still amounts to a devastatingly expensive bill. Seeing the chunks taken from my bank account (especially after paying an extortionate deposit) nearly caused me to faint. And I haven’t even bought any furniture yet, aside from a mattress and bed frame. (On a completely unrelated note: If anyone in the Oxford area is eager to give away some furniture, give me a call.)
2. The objects and tools I most heavily depend on have been so seamlessly integrated into my daily life that I forget to notice them — and as a result, I failed to add them to my “buy immediately” shopping list. It is only when I had to chop an onion that I realized I had not bought chef’s knives in addition to utensils; then, after a quick virtual trip to the Amazon website, I learned that it would be more efficient to go to the store, since there’s some complicated multi-factor age verification to buying knives online. It did not occur to me that I must order hangers until I unzipped my suitcase and stared at the empty closet. The need for a large towel and bath mat became clear to me only once I finished showering. A bottle opener was extremely desirable when I stared at the uncorkable wine; I should have instead bought a red with one of those twisty, screwy caps. (And God only knows how desperate I was for a glass after such a long week.)
3. During the earliest stage of moving in, you basically have to eat out because the pans, ingredients, plates, napkins, cutlery, and all that other stuff either a) haven’t been purchased yet, b) haven’t been delivered yet, or c) haven’t been unpacked yet. I enjoy affordable, unhealthy fast food as much as the next guy — but only every once in a while. After two or three days of nothing but take out, I feel like a rat with a stomach full of garbage. Although I’m not an impressive cook, I would kill to eat my own food.
4. I relocated from the United States to England, and many of my frustrations are related to moving internationally. The five-hour time difference has disputed my sleep, and I’m hungry at hours outside of meal time. I can’t get my American phone to work quite right. As I’ve been making Amazon purchases, I’ve realized that some of my favorite brands and home goods— a particular set of pans, a specific pressure cooker, a trusted shampoo that is uniquely capable of taming my unruly hair — just aren’t available here. I might have committed an unforgivable crime against my beloved American air fryer by purchasing a different brand here.
5.  There’s so much paperwork: setting up utilities, filing out tax forms, signing everything for the lease, and so on ad infinitum. None of it is intellectually challenging, but just takes so much time. And everything moves at snail speed in the United Kingdom: I was able to set up internet in my DC apartment with a single 15-minute phone call, but I’ll be waiting at least a week for the “engineers” to set up wifi at my Oxford place.
6.  I, a woman just over five feet tall and amounting to about 100 pounds, have to carry heavy things up one or two flights of stairs. Must I say more?