Where are the __(insert really important object here)__________?
In the box
For the past couple of days this has been the extent of mine and Anna’s dealings. Moving house is an unpleasant business, enough time has usually passed from the previous move to forget just how unpleasant it is but its all coming back to me now.
Some of the unpleasantness was our own doing; choosing to spend the weekend before the move packing our car for a couple of days camping at the beach instead of packing boxes was not our finest work. To start packing the day before you move is negligent and hiring a van and playing removals is foolhardy.
On the plus side I quite liked driving a big van, I liked being a bit bigger than everyone else and pretending I was a tough tradie for the day. On the down side I discovered that I have a low threshold for lifting and carrying, I’m good for about four hours and then I start making huffing noises and being a bit useless – I would be a terrible tradie.
It’s only when you pack the entire contents of your life into little boxes that you realise how much you have. You have the surface clutter the things that are on display, the things you use and like and then you have the possessions that are carefully hidden at the back of cupboards. I was amazed to find I have four fishing rods despite not exactly being a frequent angler, there was a squash racquet still immaculately preserved in its wrapper and then there is the paperwork, correspondence that looks important enough to feel obliged to lug it on to the next chapter of life.
It was also quite revealing to find that we have been living in a filthy cesspit for some time, lifting rugs and beds to expose mounds of dirt and dust raised a couple of eyebrows, I no longer run a tidy shipping Anna’s eyes. It was sad to say goodbye to a house that was the backdrop so many good times, a house we loved like it was our own, only it wasn’t our own and is due to be knocked down and turned into apartments over the coming months.
We spent our first night in a new apartment last night and it is not a story of love at first sight. Getting used to apartment quirks again will take a while, noisy neighbours, cramped car packing and a general sense of feeling overlooked. I am also coping with the shock of not having internet access, first world problem, no in fact lets call it a crisis. Whilst me and Anna spent the evening feeling sorry for ourselves Max charged in, rummaged through a few boxes, found his trains and it was business as usual. I believe the idea is that I teach him life lessons but so far its been largely the other way around.
Have you moved recently? How do you cope with change?