Moving sucks (even when it's to a nice place)
For a long time I was a bit of a gypsy, able to put all my belongings in a car and drive to destinations unknown to set up shop all over again. I liked it that way. I MISS that. But life (or in my case, family) tends to saddle you with junk (albeit nice junk) you now have to Carr around with you, and there comes a time when you give in and get that bigger place society demands.
Really though? I just wanted a garage. And more cupboard space for the aforementioned junk. After nearly four years in this tiny apartment, I am finally moving out.
Did I ever mention I LOATHE moving? No? Well I do, with the fire of a thousand suns. I don't even have much, but I so hate the inanity of packing things up in boxes only to have them be unpacked three miles away. If I could dematerialize whole shelves of crap and automatically rematerialize them in their appropriate places, well, that would be great.
But I can't. *cue dramatic sigh*
That all said however, I'm excited. This isn't my first house but it is my first I've gotten on my own (essentially, the Dude has all but commandeered the garage and though he will not [yet] be an occupant of the house, I suspect even the Orkin Man couldn't get him out of that hallowed space). My parents, upon hearing in renting a HOUSE, immediately went shipping for decorations and extra bits to fill the large space I will soon call home.
Somehow, I get the feeling moving next time will be an even bigger headache.
**
I'm pretty sure I'll need to completely rewrite my Nordic YA - it was fast drafted and, well, it shows - and I'm curiously fine with that. I still love the characters (which is always a plus) but I definitely need to flesh everything out more and revisions aren't going to be enough. On the upside, I've learned a few things that worked and didn't work with the story (aka, the villain) and came up with a kickass new ending that leads into a part two I'm still working to figure out. All this with other projects clamoring for attention... *sigh*
But new house! Yay! ;-)
Really though? I just wanted a garage. And more cupboard space for the aforementioned junk. After nearly four years in this tiny apartment, I am finally moving out.
Did I ever mention I LOATHE moving? No? Well I do, with the fire of a thousand suns. I don't even have much, but I so hate the inanity of packing things up in boxes only to have them be unpacked three miles away. If I could dematerialize whole shelves of crap and automatically rematerialize them in their appropriate places, well, that would be great.
But I can't. *cue dramatic sigh*
That all said however, I'm excited. This isn't my first house but it is my first I've gotten on my own (essentially, the Dude has all but commandeered the garage and though he will not [yet] be an occupant of the house, I suspect even the Orkin Man couldn't get him out of that hallowed space). My parents, upon hearing in renting a HOUSE, immediately went shipping for decorations and extra bits to fill the large space I will soon call home.
Somehow, I get the feeling moving next time will be an even bigger headache.
**
I'm pretty sure I'll need to completely rewrite my Nordic YA - it was fast drafted and, well, it shows - and I'm curiously fine with that. I still love the characters (which is always a plus) but I definitely need to flesh everything out more and revisions aren't going to be enough. On the upside, I've learned a few things that worked and didn't work with the story (aka, the villain) and came up with a kickass new ending that leads into a part two I'm still working to figure out. All this with other projects clamoring for attention... *sigh*
But new house! Yay! ;-)