So we are half-moved.
Half-moved, and the big things left to go-PCs, desk, bed, plasma TV, and above all, the couch.
The couch that not even Helen in an attempted fit of Herculean strength can try to move. The couch that not even Helen and Angus can move, the couch that will see us begging and bribing neighbors with beer to help us carry it across the street. The couch to end all couches.
I have a thing about me-I hate boxes packed up around me. I never move into a new place and leave boxes to linger, it drives me batty. Things get unpacked and put away, and they do so pronto. There is none of this easy lifestyle for items in a box, the lingering associated with the ease and grace of a moving Club Med. Oh no. You get your ass out of the box and get to work doing what needs to be done.
And in another bit of "I wish I had thought of that before", a visit to the gym Friday morning before moving was a real candidate on the Reasons Why I'm A Fucking Idiot list. Especially since I decided my knees were hurting too badly to run, so I had a real go at my upper arms and shoulders. Said body parts today feel like they have been injected with steel and are so sore it makes me want to book myself into a three-day spa and have massages by a guy named Claude (it would only be massages, really. Angus and I had a fantastic "Say goodbye to this house!" session last night. I think I'll need a "Welcome to the new place!" session later, once my labia de-swells.)
And to top it all off, my ISP has once again decided to mess with my mind and there's no broadband hooked up at the new place. Or even something as unimportant as a phone line. So you may or may not be reading anything new from me on Monday (hence my weekend post).
In short, I'm looking forward to being done moving. I'm looking forward to settling into the lovely new place. I am not looking forward to the requisite IKEA visit tomorrow (we need even little things like toilet paper roll holders. What kind of a person lives in a place and keeps the toilet paper on the floor, I ask you?) and the fact that there is not a single closet in this house (or cupboard, as they're called in England) defeats my No Box rule, which means some storage closets need ot be purchased.
What a life.
They say that which does not kill you makes you stronger. I'm not sure I really conscribe to that point of view, I think it doesn't factor in the "Do I really have a choice?" perspective.
I might have a caveat, though-that which does not kill you may make you stronger.
But if it doesn't kill you, moving will.
-H.
PS-in one week I'll be in Sweden. In 8 days, my babies will be home.
1
Good luck with the rest of the unpacking. For me, I always start with the kitchen. Once that's unpacked, I can get to the rest of it. But I don't feel moved in or at home until I have my books, they are all old friends, unpacked and put up on the shelves. The last thing, and it sometimes can take me as much as a year, is hanging the pictures. I admire your drive to get it all done.
Posted by: RP at November 20, 2004 11:52 AM (X3Lfs)
2
there are no closets? What kind of house has no closets?
Is that a normal thing there? I guess here in the US, in what a British friend once termed as the land of oversized everything, with our walk in closets in every room, it's hard to fathom a house with no closets at all.
Posted by: nuala` at November 20, 2004 03:58 PM (8ePZ6)
3
I agree with RP. I ALWAYS do the kitchen first. Then, my bathroom. I will usually get up extra early or if I have managed to get keys the night before, will stay up and do these two rooms. If I can cook and shower with my personals at hand, I feel better about the rest. I agree about the pics too. I have taken over a year to rehang certain pics just bc I need to get a "feel" for where they go.
Posted by: EJ at November 20, 2004 04:07 PM (ATT+7)
4
I always do the bedroom first, then the kitchen... But I've always enjoyed organizing things and figuring out where they should go.
Last time the missus and i helped a friend move we decided to do a major reconfiguration of our apartment the night before - moving half of our furniture around. Moving our friend into a fifth floor walk-up (that's US not english floors, thankfully) was torture the next day...good luck getting unpacked.
Posted by: martha at November 20, 2004 05:27 PM (5HJ2h)
5
Quoting Despair.com, "That which does not kill you simply delays the inevitable"...
Posted by: Betsy at November 20, 2004 06:30 PM (QqhKb)
6
Yay Helen and Angus!
Halfway there! Time has really sped up lately, hasn't it... If I was there, I'd help with that %^%& couch but since I'm not, I'll leave you with this.
In order to move my old couch from Apt north to Apt south ages agao, my hunky man-of-the-moment installed wheels onto the legs. Oh yes, yes he DID. Hardware store, 4 industrial wheels, drill, screw, *ahem*, and tra-la.
An hour later and we're rolling the couch down the street between the two building entrances. And then waiting for another of his mates to show up to get the beast up the few stairs. And waiting. And finally, canoodling on the couch, in the sunshine, on the sidewalk. His pal shows up and rolls us around laughing "This is the way to moooooove!"
Hope things go absolutely smashing. In a good way.
Posted by: Elizabeth at November 20, 2004 08:58 PM (SdaoR)
7
a house with no closets?! that sounds straight out of a Monty Python skit or something. I've never heard of such a thing.
Posted by: girl at November 21, 2004 12:23 PM (uZxXS)
8
Or, as I like to say: "What doesn't kill you may make you even stranger."
Fitting, what with the title of your blog and all... (And NO. OF COURSE I'm not implying anything by it!)
Posted by: redsaid at November 21, 2004 09:24 PM (tqF5N)
9
I hate living out of boxes. When I moved to CA, we were kind of in limbo on where to put certain things because a lot of stuff needed to be reassembled.
Oh.my.batshit. Normally, I will drink a pot of coffee, do an 8-ball and stay up for 9 days straight if that's what it takes me to get it all put away.
Posted by: sporty at November 22, 2004 01:39 AM (/o0as)
10
No . . . toilet paper . . . holders?
Oh, oh, honey. I'm going to be a long time getting over that one. Hope you rest up and recover from the stress of all this sooner than that.
Posted by: ilyka at November 22, 2004 09:09 AM (SPsHO)
11
I hate moving. It's part of what's kept me in this house I don't like very much for 10 years now.
Posted by: Easy at November 22, 2004 01:08 PM (U89mk)
12
Never, never, never underestimate the quality of builder incompetence. I once lived in a house that I privately decided had been built by a twenty-year-old male who had never lived on his own in his life. There was, in fact, one closet - two, if you count the one in the converted pantry (a "bedroom" that wasa approximately six feet by eight.) The kitchen was a big square with almost no counters; it would have been better if it had been smaller and given more space to the tiny living room. I won't go into detail about the bad planning designs and electrical work; I BELIEVE in houses with no closets.
The coup de grace, however, the supreme testament to bad design, was that you couldn't open the front door all the way. Because it was blocked by the stairs.
Posted by: B. Durbin at November 23, 2004 07:24 AM (mSKMG)
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