My Tweets in the last couple of weeks have swung from the rage at having to find somewhere new to live with little warning, to despair of having to consider bidding on how much rent to pay on a slightly shabby one bedroom flat because it has a garden to joy at finding something reasonable and finally to the 'oh shit moments'- it's unfurnished so it's going to be a pricey old month, how do I pack my stuff from 100 miles away and why oh why is it so difficult to deal with energy suppliers?!
Blue and Yellow Box of DOOM
Last time we moved, it was from a real hole of a flat in the less desirable bit of Mile End, when we left, T & I said we would probably look back on our time living there and laugh about it. Eventually. And we're almost at that point, so I'm hoping when I look back on this particular move, then it we'll eventually feel the same. The funny thing is, that I never used to mind moving house so much. There was a certain element of excitement in putting things away in a new space and having new surroundings- the reality of moving 2 working adults as opposed to one student/about to be working adult is a tough one- it's hard work.
The last move- my 11th in 6 years
This particular move is made more difficult because we sent the car for scrap in January, so hiring one is going to be necessary. We've also taken something on unfurnished. Now, I'm mega excited to have choices in our furniture (hello bigger bed) but it also means a lot more planning, obviously a greater start up cost and we're trying to co-ordinate all this whilst I'm working away until the weekend we're due to move in. Yes, really.
Floor plans and trying to work out how much wardrobe space we can fit into the space
The upside to having a partner who likes to do everything in minute detail AND who happens to be an engineer is that you get scaled pictures of the floor plan and you spend your Saturday night cutting out pieces of paper the same size as the furniture you like, to see how it will fit.
Managing this move has been a tough one for me because the exit from our current flat has been messy and awkward. Starting with a bombshell announcement of the flat being already advertised whilst away in Paris through to still not knowing if there are confirmed tenants taking over from us when we leave (April could be cripplingly expensive...). It really really doesn't help that I'm not in London either- I'm working away and won't be back at the old flat until the day before we move into the new one. So it was a great joy last week when a lovely lady from my Landlord's estate agent came to take pictures- blazing sunshine and warm enough to sit outside on our terrace with coffee for half an hour and the perfect excuse (keeping out of the photographer's way...). It was a much needed few minutes for headspace
Not. Enough. Coffee. In. The. World.
I'm hoping that although I won't be at home to help with the packing, my 5 zillion pages of spreadsheets and lists that I share with faceache on Google Drive will help make sure we don't forget anything and will leave me a bit more able to do things like run (selfishly) in the absence of my beloved bike since exercise helps me keep my stress in check and stops me craving and eating all the sugary things too. I hope to get better use out of these beauties too, which have been languishing through chest infections and house move drama. Needless to say they came along in my case...
Trainers gifted to me by Helly Hansen
And now.... back to the spreadsheets and the black hole of searching the internet for storage fit in the tiniest of gaps in the new bathroom. Rock n fucking roll.