Moving I moved about two months ago. I live in a flat in a tower block which is part of a housing action trust and after an infusion of government funding everything is being knocked through and re-built. Since this would be a bit noisy and create something of a mess, we’ve all been exiled to another flat in a different block. It took three months to pack everything in my room alone (a pause there while someone reading in Idaho actually takes in the immensity of that job). And then three hours to repack everything on the day we moved when we found out that the removal firm didn’t have equipment to shift on the large boxes which we had been given to put everything in. Most moves have taken them a few hours in the morning. Ours took twelve hours and two vans. Needless to say I haven’t unpacked anything. My computer currently looks like the final shot in ‘Raiders of the Lost Ark’ although without the spotlight or the cobwebs.

The odd thing about moving was the unconditional resting of your personal positions into the care of a bunch of total strangers who would cross the street to avoid. Whilst they weren't exactly throwing things about my heart missed a beat with every bang and crunch. There are some boxes I still haven't even looked into because I'm scared of what I might find inside. That said, only recorded breakage: the glass plate from the inside of the microwave (we took that out and wrapped it in bubble wrap -- might have been simpler to leave it inside).

No comments:

Post a comment