Moving is one of those things that both strenghthens and strains your friendships at the same time. On the one hand, it requires you to ask for time and effort from your friends on a day that they'd naturally prefer to sleep in and watch TV or toss bottles at passing motorists. On the other hand, a "moving party" can also be a great bonding experience, as a group gets to understand one another's tics and motivations and organizational skills. On the third hand (or foot, I guess, since I'm out of hands), there's also beer and pizza when it's all done. Ultimately the whole thing makes me wish I had less stuff, but then it's once you get rid of your furniture that you begin to realize how much you need it.
My moving party is set for a week from this Saturday, and each day until that point is being spent tossing out stuff and packing the rest. Storage space has been lined up, plans are being made to arrange a maid service (my landlady was nice enough to refuse a deposit, and she's a friend so I'd feel bad leaving the place messy since I can't just say to take it off the deposit), and the truck will be arranged. But most importantly, my moving team has been assembled--a crack force of highly specialized movers who have nothing but contempt for boxes and couches. They laugh in the face of piles, and mock the very existence of UHaul.
They are up for this task.