I moved last Friday, to a smaller place and my sense of displacement is horrendous. Everything has a slightly surreal feel to it, like my brain is filled with cotton wool. None of the furniture fits the new place, as we have an eclectic ragbag of junk shop finds and inherited bits, all of which will have to go as they are too large for the space. IKEA here we come!
There are packing boxes everywhere, filled with goodness knows what, but mostly stuff the love interest can’t throw out. Who needs five tennis racquets, three golf club sets? What is it with us humans that we need to surround ourselves with clutter.
On the plus side our new neighbours invited us in for a drink and they seem like nice potential friends, – everything else is minus at present, it’s like living a nightmare. I have always liked change, and I guess in a few weeks everything will be fine, but my old rut was just far too comfortable.
There are packing boxes everywhere, filled with goodness knows what, but mostly stuff the love interest can’t throw out. Who needs five tennis racquets, three golf club sets? What is it with us humans that we need to surround ourselves with clutter.
On the plus side our new neighbours invited us in for a drink and they seem like nice potential friends, – everything else is minus at present, it’s like living a nightmare. I have always liked change, and I guess in a few weeks everything will be fine, but my old rut was just far too comfortable.
posted by SheBah at 3:08 AM
13 Comments:
Aaah, you are back. Good. I thought maybe your blog had died. It happens all too often, you know.
Anyway, congrats on moving successfully.
We need clutter because it reminds us of where we spent our money. Without clutter we would have no trace of our purchasing history. Our clutter, in effect, defines who we are. As with fingerprints, no two people have exactly the same clutter. Or something like that.
Moving is always a pain. My own EMBLOS is suggesting we find a larger house closer to our children's school. I can't bear the thought of packing everything up again.
I salute you for your ability to stay sane.
Cheers.
The sun is shining to-day, and everything is suddenly not so bad. Reminds me of that scout song "Hello muvver, Hello Favver, here I am in Camp Granada(?)" It's like strange hotel rooms when you go on vacation, they become home after a couple of days
Moving, ghastly sort of thing. I'm against it.
There's a "love interest?"
Actually yeah Toots, what's with the 'we' pale face? Andraste has her hubby, ditto Miss Finn and Sam, Kim has Missus great cook Kim, Docky has Mrs Maroon 8, Monstee has hatchlings, ergo, Some Kind Of...erm Monster (my apologies to Metallica fans) Sarah got hitched, Mccrumble is hitched, Binty's a filthy hoor, Twenty has Dirty Dave, Lindy's been doin' the rounds...and well Footie has Vamperella, oh and I have Tim the bloomin' tool man Tayler apparently.
So spill? Is there a Mister Sexy?
Yes, there is a man, a rather mature man, ...and no, I don't have a daddy complex, this May/September thing just seems to work well for me!
Nowt wrong with age difference. Maggie's 9 years older than me. The only drawback is that when I hit 40 later this year I can't moan about it and expect any kind of sympathy.
Sheee-et, I wouldn't give a hoot about age, once your happy who cares about numbers.
You've got a May/September thing going too? Welcome to The Grey Side! It's worked for the Problem Husband and me for nigh on these last 11 years now. I am exactly half his age. We barely even thought about the difference after about year 3. And now we have kids which means we're both haggard, tired and spent all the time anyway.
Hope you're feeling a bit more settled now after the move.
I'm currently tryng to get him to apply some "Just for Men" on his grey bits...but he said this is a typical woman thing, hook your man by telling him he's perfect, you love him just as he is, then try to change him. (The clothes are next, but I'll need to be very subtle here)
There's an old saying that a woman spends 10 years trying to change her man, then the rest of their life complaining he's not the man she married.
I'm shortly about to go through that living-space down-sizing thing... can't say I'm thrilled at the prospect! Still don't know where I'm going to put all my books.
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