Post-Move

The night before the move I had a dream. In the dream I had two bedrooms in two different rundown, abandoned and dangerous apartment blocks. There were no other rooms; just the two bedrooms and they were both a complete mess. There was not enough time to clean and pack them both. I had to run between the two in a panic trying to get as much done as I could in the time I had. To make things even worse both rooms were completely dark, pitch black. All I had to help me see was the light from a single candle like something out of a Charles Dickens story. This might sound strange enough but there was also a kitten I kept on losing during the process. I had trained it to hunt mice but became very sad when it finally caught and killed one. It does not take Sigmund Fraud to figure out that a lot of this dream was because of all the preparation I was still in the middle of doing for the move. The rest is probably down to my normal mental state (or lack there of).

Packing and cleaning has filled my every waking moment for the past few days and it seemed it was starting to invade my dreams as well. I hardly had time to think about anything else, even eating. Luckily I had help from my old flat mate’s brother. He stayed over for the week to help organize things and tidy. In a funny way it was kind of like having a temporary flat mate until the new one arrived.

My old flat mate came back on the Friday to pick up the last of his stuff and we managed to calve out some time to go to Bevrijdingspop. As a result we all spent a very hung over Saturday morning helping load his stuff into a van and saying a final farewell. It was a very surreal moment and I had to get straight back to organizing my own stuff afterwards. At the end of Saturday I ran out of energy and crashed. I think if I had just looked at one more cardboard box or feather duster my body would have forced me into a self induced comor to stop the torture I was putting it through.

On the Sunday my new flat mate arrived with a van to start moving all my stuff. It took us two trips and when we started to bring boxes and furniture into the house his cat looked very nervous and concerned at the sudden development and strange new objects. However, by the following day she was already checking each box to see which ones she found comfortable and then claimed the most agreeable as her own (or she was looking for the box with the most valuable stuff to sell for cat food). I really like cats.

Now I just have all the unpacking and furniture reconstruction to do. I also have to go back to the old place later this week to finish cleaning. It was left in a real mess which makes me wonder if there was some self for filling prophecy truth in the dream…

…or the packing was just driving me crazy. Take your pick.

7 responses to “Post-Move”

  1. Rose says:

    I got you a housewarming gift. A new feather duster.

  2. marycub says:

    maybe a bit of both??

  3. roxanne says:

    Good luck in the new place. And enjoy that new kitty!

  4. marycub says:

    Good luck with it!

  5. Invader Stu says:

    Rose – Why do you torture me?

    Gaby de Wilde – Whoever said that must never have seen my old house. I wish I could have spent more time at Bevrijdingspop this year. Last year was a lot of fun.

    Marycub – I think you are right. I don’t think I have ever done anything that has driven me so close to the brink of madness.

    Roxanne – Thanks. Its working out really well so far. Hopfully things will all get sorted soon and I can start regular posting again.

  6. sharlet says:

    Maybe you just have too many things you know? ;)

  7. Rose says:

    Because, I’m your friend and it is my job.

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