Hate?

I sure hate moving. The noise of that packing tape alone. It really gets on your nerves. And yikes, my Visor cradle in box 3 and my computer in box 18 and my teapot ... god knows where. I spent the whole weekend chanting, "ashes to ashes, dust to dust, you can't take it with you anyway," so as to mitigate dreaded feelings of loss and confusion and that dark moment of realization when you realize you left behind your much loved hard-boiled egg slicer and other key memorabilia. And talk about old Easter candy. How could I have so much stale Easter candy hidden in one house? I was forced to toss a quarryfull of rockhard petrified marshmellow peeps.