When I moved out of my parents’ house and into my freshman dorm room, I had no idea that my existing concept of “home” would change so dramatically. Throughout college and my first few years in the real world, I found a reason to move every single year. Yes, really — nine times in nine years, always during the summer, and never without a flight of stairs on at least one end. It’s a small wonder no one was ever seriously hurt on account of my furniture.
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