Facing up to the hell of moving household
This week I paid a visit to hell. I mean I moved house, but it’s pretty much the same thing.
It was with enormous excitement I sat on the phone and heard my wife say “We’re unconditional” and the lifelong dream of being a homeowner became a reality.
But the sobering reality of an impending move came rolling in, like a storm-driven wave crashing on to Marine Parade.
Having been lucky enough to live in many different parts of New Zealand, I knew what was coming. The laws of moving home are written in stone. First, the move it or lose it filter needed to be applied.
“How do we still have unpacked boxes from three moves ago and can I just throw them out?” my wife yelled from the recesses of the wardrobe.
“No. They may contain my valuable . . . things,” I replied. Both of us knowing I had no idea what was in that box, and that it probably was, indeed, going to find its way to a dump. Then there’s the where are we going to get a trailer or are we going to hire a truck dilemma. If I had a dollar for every time I’d said ‘I really should buy a trailer’ I’d have at least as many dollars as I’ve had moves.
Thankfully this time that particular dilemma was sorted courtesy of Mrs G’s new boss! (Thanks Barry, owe you a beer!)
Who the heck is going to help with the heavy stuff and when?
“Hey guys, how do you fancy coming over to mine, exerting maximum physical effort, probably sustaining some bruises and wasting a few hours of your life for my household’s gain?” Not the most attractive proposition in any language.
And it’s not just the packing of an old house, oh no no no. It’s the UNpacking at the other end.
“Why do we have enough Tupperware to supply a medium-sized American town,” I find myself wondering. And where is it all going to go?
Toys I’d never seen before came spilling from boxes. Did I spend money on these? Did Santa bring them? Who knows? Will they ever be played with again? Probably not. Dinner time goes from 6pm, to 7pm, to oh well I guess we just aren’t having dinner. Where’s that pack of Tim Tams?
The great news is, the old house is empty, the new house is full, and we should be unpacked by 2024.