It’s days like this when I wish I could wiggle my nose ala Bewitched and have all our belongings magically unpacked and placed in the most perfectly organised locations in the new flat. I love moving but not so much the packing/unpacking bit.

I think I’ve unpacked and broken down around ten big boxes this afternoon. My progress has slowed and I feel sore back muscles tightening up on me. I took another – maybe the eleventh, if I were really counting – box out to the balcony to join all the others to be recycled. The evening air is crisp and there were two perfectly layered cotton-candy tones to the sky, running pale blue above to a blushing pink on the horizon. I leaned on our railing, took a few deep breaths and found Venus rising. This escape gave me a little burst of strength. I need it too… I have to uncover the bed yet or we’ll have nowhere to sleep! I’ve also got a late dinner to make for Neil who is on his way back from London. After all that, I’m prescribing myself a glass of red wine and a book. Bliss.

I know unpacking only lasts so long before it’s done- it’s just a shame it has to happen so sensibly close to the packing part, which I haven’t quite recovered from yet! I’m pretty certain that tomorrow’s big task will be weeding out old clothes from my mountains of apparel. I tackled Neil’s wardrobe before the move. This was easier since I had no real emotional attachment to his old clothes. (Of course I gave him the opportunity to oversee my actions.) My clothes will be more difficult- I get attached. Ridiculously so. It’s emotional, financial, and I don’t know what else. I am a hopeless packrat when it comes to my clothes. For instance: I still have a pair of jeans from an Art School boyfriend who had adopted them from an ex-girlfriend of his and then I adopted them from him. They’re not even a cool cut or colour anymore since this was – oh my god, the truth hurts – 15 YEARS AGO! Holy cow!

Eek. I’m tired and need to make food. More importantly, I don’t want to think about what else is lurking in my clothing stash…


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3 thoughts on “unpacking”

  1. It’s ok…back away from the acid washed jeans! I can’t talk though, I think I still have the sweater I wore in my Senior Pictures.

  2. The move has gone well, although tiring. And I’m a glutton for punishment… I emptied another four boxes before bed. Yowsa!

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