I know we're not going to live out our golden years in this house. I know. I don't even particularly want to. But now I have to weigh if I'd rather die here, or pack all my stuff to move. And it's a tough call most days.
When I moved into our house, it was already my husband's house. His stuff had all its special places, and he cleared out one room completely for me, along with a dresser and some closet space and such. So my room? Became a giant catch-all for the stuff I had that duplicated his or just didn't fit in a place that made sense somewhere else in the house. It honestly took me years to unpack (okay, I may not be completely done yet).
Once we move again (and I know we will...), I'd rather look at hiring a moving company to have someone else do at least the heavy lifting. I know a lot of people who buy their friends off with beer and pizza, but then it seems like something always gets broken, and there's no one to yell at about it. I think professional movers would pay more attention to what they're doing and focus primarily on taking good care of your stuff.
I suppose the first step (as usual) is trying to find a sense of organization in my poor room that probably was never properly unpacked. It's been looking a bit better, but it's got to be finished before it can be wrecked all over again.