moving

Since leaving the family home some time ago, I’ve packed my possessions and moved eight times. Last weekend, I made it nine. (Don’t worry, I still proudly boast the 3054 postcode!)

Admittedly, some of those moves involved going overseas and I didn’t have to pack up ALL my possessions but let me tell you, it hardly makes a difference. Packing up your crap and moving is the same regardless of how much you’re packing or which country you’re doing it in. And it’s exhausting. There are movers to research and hire (if you move as often as I do trust me when I tell you I’d have no friends or family members speaking to me if I relied on them to get me from my old place to my new place with my heavy furniture and boxes of books). There’s mail to redirect, utilities to be cancelled, paperwork to be filled in, and bonds to be paid. Oh, and let’s not forget the process of finding boxes to pack your stuff in, and the packing itself.

The weekend of the move is usually full of anxiety (will the movers find parking close enough to the house/flat? will they wreck my stuff? can they fit everything through the new doorways?), physical pain and thoughts of ‘what the hell am I going to do with all these boxes now?’ ‘are the neighbours going to be too noisy/quiet?’ ‘why do I need eleventy-five keys to get into my flat?', ‘where the hell are the bins?!’ and 'why, dear God, do I have so MUCH STUFF!!'. But once that last box is unpacked and you can sit on your couch in your new home with a glass of wine, it all seems worth it. A new environment can do wonders and you tell yourself you’ll never, EVER move again. (But then the lease expires and thoughts of a new abode creep into your brain, which has conveniently forgotten the trauma of the last move.)

I went through that trauma and now find myself in a lovely new flat in a block that definitely has a Melrose Place feel about it. I can see palm trees from my living room window (where this very piece is being written) and the neighbours aren’t afraid to smile when you pass each other. The distance to Rathdowne Village and Piedimonte’s is about equal and the tram is just around the corner. The flat itself is modern, has no carpet and the shower pressure is GREAT! I never, EVER want to move again.