Thursday, 24 February 2011

*dying swan*

Not in WoW you understand - I've barely played this week *sulks*.

*Dying swan* because I'm packing my house up, then I thought I'd stop and blog as a treat to myself (hey - it's like 9.30am - it's too early for vodka, m'kay!)... only to find that the installment of Saga's challenge that I was up to was Day 5: Favourite Item(s) in-game.  Which would require me to log many, many characters and go to their banks and... unpack stuff - which would make me SCREAM.  So instead I'm going to have a rant about RL (I know!  The shock... you poor things...)

Packing my house up is a big, steamy pile of this. It's soooooooo hard.  And I'm feeling incredibly feeble having been going at it since 5.30am on Monday.  Ok, I have stopped to sleep.  And eat.  And whinge.  And play my pally a little.  A very little.  But basically I'm sorting through 8 years of... stuff.  Happily (or not...) I'm also sorting through junk from two marriages (which is a phenomenal achievement as I'd divorced first husband waaaay before I moved here - and I kept thinking 'why didn't I get rid of this shite when I moved?  Really, wtf`?? And then I realised - because it's easier to pack it and chuck it in a cupboard than it is to go through and sort it out and recycle it or take it to the dump.  And my self control and lack of CAPS in that sentence is epic) and one long term relationship, so add emotional stress onto physical stress and you have a very feeble little belf rocking in a corner.

But I am being amazingly good.  The recycle/charity shop/give away trawl has massively out-weighed the 'chuck' trawl. Books were the KILLER.  I have *coughs and mutters a large number* boxes of books that I'm keeping, but a great deal more that I've given away - NOT at the behest of Himself and  the raised eyebrow at the utter trash (think Twilight saga then worse) that was on my bookshelves, bollocks to that - I like my escapism, but because I realised that there was no way I was going to re-read all of them.  We're talking yards and yards (possibly a mile of I actually laid them all out) of books.  They've gone to good homes (or charity shops) so I feel slightly virtuous.  But worse than the books was the general crap - the 'oh I'll put it in that cupboard there and sort it when I have... time' stuff.  And then worse than that was the wedding photos.  Epically, I managed to find BOTH sets in one cupboard, which is good going even for me.  Daughter was charmed, having never seen any photos of her parents wedding, "Mum - you were SO young!!" , "Yes darling. I was 18.  That's 5 years older than you."  Daughter grimaces and mutters something about "love being stupid" under her breath...

And, because every blog post needs a happy ending...  Last night Daughter was staying overnight at her friends and I was tired, so very tired.  And hormonal.  And feeling generally unloved, having rung Himself earlier and gotten a "I'm in the car (on hands free because Himself is a Good Boy) so I'll ring you when I get home.  I might be a while though." And I'd had a bit of a cry (because I miss him) so I rang my Mum, all sniffly, "Can I come and stay with you tonight?" so emergency parent taxi had departed (I know, I'm 34 - how sad does this make me look!) to collect me and Himself rung. "Where are you?" "Just going to my parents." "Oh, ok.  I'll come and join you then." "........????? WHAT???" "I've just parked."  My neighbours must have been edified to see me explode out of my front door and run, yes actually RUN (last seen circa 2002 in Brixton to get the night bus), at speed, down the road into Himself's arms. And cry some more.  Daughter returned home about an hour later (because she needed cash - why else) and greeted Himself with "What are you doing here?"  "I missed your Mum so I thought I'd come down and see her." 'OK, now I accept that you love her.  You can marry her now."  And I'd like to add, for further bragging rights, that it's a 360 mile round trip for Himself, who left at 6am to go and do a days work.  All because he missed me like I missed him.  Now THAT'S love /ends brag.


  1. *hugs and warm thoughts being sent your way* Moving is such a hideously stressful business, it seems to magnify everything when you're doing it. Definitely go easy on yourself when you can.

    I so hear you on the books! I could chuck a load of them to the charity shops but Colt point blank refused. In the end we built a small fortress out of box after box after box of books...

    And as for Himself?! You made me go awww, and feel all warm and fuzzy inside!

  2. I hate moving. I've moved more than I really want to in the last few years, but I hope that I'm staying put for a while now.

    I swear I still have some boxes packed since the initial move in 2007 though. I'll eventually get to them. I think. But it also means lots of stuff in drawers and things without any order to them, which drives me nuts.. so I can fully understand your frustrations!

    And btw, you're allowed to brag - that was just so sweet!

  3. Aww thank you! It just takes so much LONGER than you think it's going to. And you're totally right about the magnification thing as well. And Himself makes me go quite warm and fuzzy too - much as I mock him... occasionally... he is quite wonderful on a regular basis!