In one week, I have to pack up my office for a move downtown, and my family for a move while our kitchen is demolished. Each move on it's own is annoying, physically and mentally exhausting, requring an intimate inventory of years of crap and requisite decisions made on the destiny of each item down to the tiniest, lousiest paperclip. What lives. What dies. What is recycled.
Multiply that by two?
Nothing makes you wish you were a minimalist or a hobo quite like moving does.