Moving Day

And in other news, the Fellow (and by association I) tried to set a new record of sorts, at least in the circles we move in. We moved house, every last bit we owned, in less than 7 hours. 7 hours of going back and forth between the old and new place, of wondering how the hell we had so much stuff to move, and panicking (that would be me) about how in the world I was going to get all of it set up again. Oh and 7 hours of getting fully exhausted and layered in several inches of dust, grime and a few random spiders.

Of course, when I say that we’ve moved house it’s a slight exaggeration on my tired part. It was actually more like dumping all the stuff in the new space, over every surface available, and then spending the next day going through bags and bundles looking for random stuff (including a tiny bottle of nail polish remover and the bag that has the Fellow’s precious PS2 games). I also spent considerable time standing in the middle of the mess, looking around and sighing loudly. And since that got quite depressing and stressful (obviously), I tried to make myself feel good by imagining everything in its place and deciding where all the photographs and paintings would go. Not a good idea. Got more depressed thinking of all the work I still had to do. Sigh.

And then instead of being responsible and setting house and all that, the Fellow and I take off for another 10 days (enjoying the last of the Fellow’s leave this year), merrily leaving everything behind. I don’t know what we’re thinking. Well, actually the Fellow is thinking he gets to soup up his car some more. And I’m really hoping elves exist to help the desperate outside of fairy tales.