Musings on life, the universe and an elephant named Flobo


I have a problem. It may not seem like a big problem to some, however it is enough to drive me cray-cray. In roughly 9 weeks, my lease is up and I have to move house. Calm down, yes, I told you it wasn’t the end of the world although for me, it kinda is… let me explain.

I have a few serious issues when it comes to moving house. Firstly, I very very rarely feel comfortable in a place. Take for instance both of my childhood homes. I would gladly burn them both to the ground for all the comfort I felt whilst being forced to live in them. This is not an over reaction. Those houses are bad vibe central for me. I have to date lived in 3 places I felt comfortable. Firstly, my grandparents place which I used to visit regularly and have extended vacations at during the school holidays. It is unfortunately forever lost to the sands of time and now only exists in my memories. Secondly, the last place I lived with my ex-husband. Only made rather comfortable by the fact that he was rarely home and for the most part, the townhouse was set up the way I wanted it and it was for essentially my domain – until I got kicked out. And now this place. A decent little 4 bedroom brick lowset in an interesting neighbourhood which is residential with a splash of rural and industrial thrown in for good measure. I don’t mind the house although I am really over seeing the old termite damage in the walls that the owners have never gotten around to fixing. Not to mention the hot water system that needs replacing. All in all, this is the first place that my fiance and I have made our own and for that I could not exclude it from this list.

My second issue, more of a curse, is packing. No. I am not complaining about packing being a horrible chore. Quite frankly if they gave out Olympic medals for it – you would be looking at a Gold Medallist. Packing to me is an extreme sport and I am quite happy to spend some hours packing away my books and carefully wrapping up my sentimental knick knacks whilst listening to some tunes. I tend to pack early and upon moving – after the initial cleaning of which ever place I have moved into, I am generally unpacked within 2 days. The only things that can delay my unpacking are if waiting for furniture to be delivered (that threw a spanner in the works when I moved into this place and had to wait a week for the new furniture to be delivered) or if I have to get out the industrial strength cleaners and hazmat suit because a previous tenant has left some questionable items behind (yes I have discovered dildos, penis pumps, and a porn stash left by previous tenants – needless to say that that room became my ex’s study and not mine).

People may think it crazy that I have already started packing up my house – of course starting with my bookshelves, but I need to be organised. The fact that I do not yet know where I am moving to is enough to drive me completely crazy. I exist in a comfortable world where as much as possible is planned out and my future address is certainly a detail or rather high importance to me. Once I have an address, I can properly schedule the packing and unpacking of all boxes and arrange the boxes in my garage into “rooms” to make it easier for the removalists to not mess with my system. This will be the first time we are using removalists (kinda over the back-breaking labour after the amount of times both we, and our friends and family have moved).

Either way, at the end of the day, when packing is done, I always have time to sit back and put my feet up to look at the all important things online and perhaps add to my little bloggette.

I have found in life that there are some things you can never have too many of.

In the case of packing these things include:

  • good packaging tape
  • can never have too many boxes of various sizes
  • newspapers to shred to protect those valuable items
  • music to listen to
  • Alpaca puns





If only I could be a snail and carry my house on my back…

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