(no subject)
Originally published at http://www.notmymother.net . You can comment there or here.
We moved house about a week and a half ago. It went unbelievably smoothly and I had lots of help but of course it’s still stressful. I was actually fine up until the day after the move when I suddenly felt enraged by all our belongings. How dare they be in a box with no designated place in which to go? What the hell were we thinking, buying them in the first place?
Dave and I have different views about how to unpack. I want to take my time, opening every carefully-curated box, deciding where each item should go and place it there with care and reference, preferably while listening to plinky-plonky restful music. But David declared that that would drive him nuts and proceeded to rip open boxes and shove things into any waiting nook and cranny while I was not there to stop him. He calls it decanting. I should have wondered why he agreed so readily to me going out that night.
Oh well, at least it gives me something to do. And he did have a (small, very small) point, as it was almost impossible to navigate around all the boxes to reach the places things should go. My house now resembles a sliding tile puzzle, I just have to find some gaps to move things around.
what do you mean, you can’t live like this?
*
I like our new place. It’s in a much bigger development than our last one, full of lush gardens and pools and tennis courts and also water, for we are down by the marina. The buildings are all low-rise so it feels like a lovely, relaxing resort. From our bedroom I can see yachts and fit people running along the promenade. Inside it’s smaller than the last place, but also brighter and the layout makes more sense. We had to get rid of some furniture, but all our *stuff* fits fine. Or at least it will, once I slide the tiles around…
Of course the first week I hated it and thought we’d made a horrible mistake. It was the stress of moving, and also some unrelated sadness, and I was intimidated by the beautiful people in the gym. The car was broken so I couldn’t easily get out and contrary to my expectations B was not instantly surrounded by new friends and playdates. It was all daunting. Maybe we should have stayed where we were? We had friends there. I understood where things were in relation to there. I knew where my things were, there.
I feel better now. I still don’t know where my things are, and I haven’t been back to the gym, but we’re getting settled.
it’s pretty here
We moved house about a week and a half ago. It went unbelievably smoothly and I had lots of help but of course it’s still stressful. I was actually fine up until the day after the move when I suddenly felt enraged by all our belongings. How dare they be in a box with no designated place in which to go? What the hell were we thinking, buying them in the first place?
Dave and I have different views about how to unpack. I want to take my time, opening every carefully-curated box, deciding where each item should go and place it there with care and reference, preferably while listening to plinky-plonky restful music. But David declared that that would drive him nuts and proceeded to rip open boxes and shove things into any waiting nook and cranny while I was not there to stop him. He calls it decanting. I should have wondered why he agreed so readily to me going out that night.
Oh well, at least it gives me something to do. And he did have a (small, very small) point, as it was almost impossible to navigate around all the boxes to reach the places things should go. My house now resembles a sliding tile puzzle, I just have to find some gaps to move things around.
what do you mean, you can’t live like this?
*
I like our new place. It’s in a much bigger development than our last one, full of lush gardens and pools and tennis courts and also water, for we are down by the marina. The buildings are all low-rise so it feels like a lovely, relaxing resort. From our bedroom I can see yachts and fit people running along the promenade. Inside it’s smaller than the last place, but also brighter and the layout makes more sense. We had to get rid of some furniture, but all our *stuff* fits fine. Or at least it will, once I slide the tiles around…
Of course the first week I hated it and thought we’d made a horrible mistake. It was the stress of moving, and also some unrelated sadness, and I was intimidated by the beautiful people in the gym. The car was broken so I couldn’t easily get out and contrary to my expectations B was not instantly surrounded by new friends and playdates. It was all daunting. Maybe we should have stayed where we were? We had friends there. I understood where things were in relation to there. I knew where my things were, there.
I feel better now. I still don’t know where my things are, and I haven’t been back to the gym, but we’re getting settled.
it’s pretty here