On September 9, I moved house. I understand such things are a necessary evil when life moves forward, but it is a hell I wouldn’t wish on anyone. It was a tedious, tiresome task that was made all the more difficult when the packing process was interrupted and halted by the sudden death of my uncle (when being there for my aunt and cousins and generally feeling like a dog for leaving so soon after was far more important), and also by the fact that the real estate agent was quite possibly the most condescending arsehole of a man I have ever had the displeasure of meeting who lied and mislead us through a good portion of the process, and had the gall to laugh when we called him on it (“Did I say that? Ha ha ha.”). And he let my dogs out (who will BOLT at the first opportunity), but that’s a different beef entirely.
Anyway, we ended up moving to a little house about half an hour out of Perth, Western Australia, in a densely packed little suburb where there is no mobile phone reception to speak of, and where it takes three weeks to get a land line phone and internet connection established. On the plus side, I got a ton of writing and a fair bit of sewing done, but I also missed four job interviews because I simply couldn’t receive calls or emails.
We’ve settled in well, on the plus side. There were a few little hiccups at the beginning, but I think they’re in the past now. We’re close to a train station to the city, my brother is close by, there are plenty more jobs for me to apply for, and I can go to uni next year. However, the moving process is the worst kind of chore: packing is the height of monotony, waking up at 6:30am to greet the movers is something I am in no kind of hurry to do again, spending a further three hours cleaning the house after the movers left was horrid, mostly due to the fact that the house that had been my home for so long was completely empty, and the long drive to where we are now was annoying too, but that was because there were some other smaller things in there, and two dogs and a bird in the car, too, and by that point I hadn’t eaten in over six hours.
Most of this might come off as whiny, but I’m alright with that. Some people thrive on change, but I’m not one of them. I like the idea of change – sounds wonderful in theory – but the actual changing gives me the cold shakes. As I say, I’m fine now, but I’m in no hurry to repeat the process. But I will, and soon; the lease runs out in a year…