I never thought I could enjoy moving, on account of how it involves organization and heavy lifting, two human endeavors at which I have never excelled. But when my landlord wanted to raise my already ludicrous rent ten percent starting this June, I decided I'd learn to like moving. Renters' fear of upheaval, after all, cripples our negotiating power in the real estate market. Landlords can saddle us with almost any indignity (I lived for two years in an apartment with disconcertingly yellow tap water) because they know we loathe changing homes.

But in moving from the Gold Coast to Lincoln Square recently, I followed five simple steps that made the process cheap and easy. In hopes of freeing fellow renters from the shackles of moving-fear, I'd like to share them now:

Step 1. I called the Salvation Army, which is like the regular army, except instead of saving Iraq they save your furniture. The Salvation Army came by and took most of my furniture away in a truck to sell at one of their stores. Now, it's true that I had a sentimental attachment to these items, since I purchased most of them at IKEA and spent weeks of my life constructing them with only my bare hands, an allen wrench, and tears of frustration. But I know from experience what happens if I attempt to move furniture myself. I end up screaming at my girlfriend to just turn it left, left, wait, no, LEFT, YOUR OTHER LEFT, until she eventually gets mad at me and drops the couch on my foot.

Step 2. I did not rent a moving van, because all my remaining belongings could be strapped to a family-sized sedan. Even excellent drivers such as myself can expect to hit somewhere between seventeen and eighteen parked cars while trying to maneuver a moving van into an alley. Last time I used a moving van, I hit a car and someone saw me do it and yelled, "You'd better leave a note!" so I had to walk up to the car I'd dented and place a note under the windshield that read, "Hey, I hit your car but I don't have any money to pay for it. I'm really sorry. Here's hoping you have insurance."

Step 3. I refused to acquire any boxes. Boxes are the great enemies of any mover, because once something gets put in a box, it rarely comes out. Instead of the box method of packing, I utilized the armful method, which involves scooping up an armful of stuff, running to the car, and then dropping it into the trunk. You can add an extra dimension of fun to the armful method if you wear a ski mask and make believe that you are robbing yourself.

Step 4. If I could not specifically remember the last time I used a particular possession, I threw it away. Sorry, Winnie the Pooh mouse pad. Nothing personal, bottle of toilet bowl cleaner. You just never came in handy, high school diploma.

Step 5. I reacquired furniture. I waited a couple weeks before going to the Salvation Army, hoping that by then my furniture would be for sale. Unfortunately, I didn't find any of my belongings, but I was able to completely reequip my apartment with nearly identical stuff for a grand total of 104 dollars, which was delivered to the new apartment for a small charge.

All told, my move took about 7 hours and cost around $150, approximately equal to the per-month rent increase I was facing at my old place. My new apartment is great, and best of all, I don't have to fear my landlord. If he tries to jack the rent or refuses to fix anything, I'll just leave. I love moving! And there's nothing that puts a chill down the spine of Chicago's real estate barons like a renting populace unafraid of taking a hike.