When you move, they don't tell you that you'll agonize over whether to risk packing and crushing your old, half-rolled bag of cereal.
In the end, they usually end up in the trash, stuffing the other bits of food waste under less guilt-inducing garbage.
New beginnings, right?
You'll have to decide whether to Kon Mari the crap out of your joy.
Say goodbye to mountains of collected Tupperware with mismatched lids, to the plastic bags that have accumulated over the years.
This is survival of the fittest, and only the necessary will complete your trek.
Then, the onset of mini panic attacks will descend like locusts. Your heart might skip a beat when you hear the knocking of the deliveryman, and you wonder what other forgotten item has arrived.
A tiny gasp and expletive will escape when you realize you've left your new water heater on overnight.
Sweaty hands slide countless times over your pajama bottoms, as you secure the windows while night falls over unfamiliar layouts.
They don't warn you that home won't be home for a few days. But more so than anything, they don't tell you how awful it feels to visit your old home, and realize that you've already moved on.