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M Day approaches fast. I am now thoroughly exhausted. I have worked a 7 day week including most evenings now for around a month and it’s rather begun to take its toll. Thank god it’s almost done. This Saturday I did an 8 hour shift at the Shiny One’s paintball site again and got shot in the neck, after which I went to the new house and tried desperately to paint, but couldn’t handle it. Went home and did some packing. Then got up sundays morning and did a whole load more packing, helped my dad, grandad and two of the friends in the village to load up three loads of gear to transport to the new house, then went over there and painted one entire room, did the gloss in another and shifted all the boxes and furniture round between rooms in the house. In essence, after working all week and spending every evening doing work on the house or packing, I then did two 14 hour days at the weekend and have now come back to work. And I’m about to fall over.

We have three rooms left to deal with and all three of them have been partially dealt with. Around 1/3 to 1/2 of our worldly goods are packed and have been moved across. Our old house that we lose on thursday no longer feels like home. Too many bare walls and not enough clutter. While we’re looking forward to the new house and it’ll be great when we’re in, there’s something really sad about leaving the old one. It has been our first house together and during our time there we’ve seen three graduations between the two of us, our engagement and our marriage. It feels like losing an old friend.

Still, there are humourous moments in the whole thing. Mostly these revolve around my grandad who’s currently up from London and staying with my mum and dad and… he’s helping. Oh God is he helping. Please someone stop him helping! He means so well, but is quite deaf and I’m not sure he listens much anyway. On sunday morning, while we were loading the car and trailer up with boxes and bags, he repeatedly brought out every box or bag that we’d said we couldn’t put in yet and I had to carry them all back into the house and put them back. Every one. It’s actually quite funny and if I hadn’t been quite so shattered, I’d have laughed like a drain. Then there was the third load that they did without me while I painted. On the third trip they were bringing some of the furniture we’d emptied and prepared. However, they seem to have got a little carried away. Anything that wasn’t nailed down was brought across and we watched in a constant state of fscination as things went past the door on their way to storage, including Mrs M’s chair she uses at her PC (which we weren’t going to take with us and without which she is now standing at her computer desk until friday), the pouffe that goes with out sofas (on which I normally keep the various remote controls and stand my drinks), my work laptop (which I had to bring back as I’m at work today), and so on. We kept expecting to see the fridge go past, or a surprised looking neighbour.

And then when we got home to out tremendously empty house at 10:30 last night and fancied having an hour sat down with a whisky and the tv to relax after such a long day, we discovered that they’d also packed and taken the pile of videos that we’d purposefully left to watch between now and thursday, so we were left with whatever crap was on tv. I can’t wait to get moved in and settled.

Add to that this morning looks like turning into a real bitch and I’m far from prepared for a bad day and we’re talking stress. Can you say ‘doctor’s note’ children?



Written by SJAT

January 5, 2010 at 4:41 pm

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