A year ago today men arrived at my house and began "packing" our belongings for our move from Luxembourg back to Canada.
I use the word "packing" lightly, as it was (I hope) one of the worst packing jobs ever. After 3 days I thought the hell was over and boarded the plane to visit friends in Stockholm with happy thoughts of vacations.
Of course that came back to bite me in the bum a month later when the container arrived and the real hell began. (I have to admit, I hadn't been impressed with the packing and feared the arrival, but denial was a better vacation companion than worry). I failed to see logic in most of the packing - bubble wrap around quilts, but picture frames tossed into boxes? Our laptop unceremoniously tossed in the top of a box that wasn't even marked fragile?
The "day-helper" that the movers hired on this end didn't help - he stunk of stale cigarettes and looked like he was sporting a bad hangover. And he kept hollering at me. Ugh. I don't do drunks well (and yes, I can confirm that my drunkdar is usually about 99.8% accurate).
I have moved a lot in my life. At least I think it's a lot. My parents split up shortly before my 15th birthday and I have moved 12 times since then. My poor kids are on their 3rd move each at the tender ages of 4 and 6.
So you'd think that I would be a pro at this by now, right?
I used to be. I used to rock at moving. 2 moves ago I had charts and rooms numbered and lists. Seriously.
This time? I can't get going. This week was supposed to be my "big" packing week, and I have got very little accomplished. And the sitter is leaving in 10 minutes to go on vacation until after we move.
I could blame a lot of things, trouble getting boxes (I know, sad, so sad), to the teeny tiny-ness of this house which really isn't conducive to boxes. Or that the contractors who are doing a great job at our new house have not yet got to a stage where we can put too much in the house (which would facilitate things, as it would mean not tripping over boxes) and that the carpets are only being laid next Wednesday.
But what I really think is : you only get so much moving mo-jo in your life and I've used mine up.
And now I will go and find a rock to crawl under - if I can even get out of the house in the mess I've made.