Moving messes

Why is moving always such a pain?

I should be getting fairly good at packing by now-- between all my mission transfers and apartment switches I think this is at least the fourteenth time I've packed everything up in the last three years. In spite of all that experience, it never seems to get any more enjoyable. It never ceases to amaze me how much junk I manage to cram into half of an apartment room, a bathroom cupboard, and a kitchen cupboard. Somehow it doesn't seem fair that all that stuff multiplies like rabbits. It seems like every time I'm congratulating myself on finally putting together a stash of bags for D.I., it's suddenly time to start all over again. One of my mission companions used to say that when she got old and lived alone, all she wanted was a rug, a spoon and a plate. That was it. No mess, no materialism, just simple peaceful solitude.
As much as I'd like my mess to diminish overnight, I'm not sure I'm ready to go that extreme. After all, how could I do without my computer? Or my cell phone? Or my many books? Or my stack of every letter I ever received on my mission? (Okay, fine, maybe I could do without that one!)
I guess I'm not ready to completely give up all my material possesions yet. But, I guess everyone has their weakness. I guess what I really need is a bag like Merlin has, on the Disney film, The Sword and the Stone. No matter how much clutter he has in his tower, somehow it all fits into one small bag. Just a wave of his wand and everything flies neatly into the satchel. Wouldn't that make packing so much simpler?