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I Hate Moving House, And Here’s Why

I feel like I’ve been writing about it for weeks (mostly because I have) but I have finally, finally, moved house. All my stuff is in a new place and I now have the task of finding new homes for it all. I’m exhausted, and so sick to the back teeth of seeing boxes everywhere. Here are some of the things I’ve learned about moving house that I’m going to pass onto you. Forewarned is forearmed, or something like that.

The Boxes Never End

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They never end. Ever. I spent hours the other day clearing up the front room, taking things out of boxes and finding homes for them. I emptied boxes, broke them down and started on new boxes. However, the procession of boxes NEVER ENDED. In the end, I flopped into the living room and wailed ‘THAT ROOM DOESN’T EVEN LOOK ANY BETTER!’

I have resigned myself to the fact that my house now looks like the back room of a severely disorganised charity shop.

There’s Still Stuff To Get Rid Of

I thought I’d got rid of everything that needed to go before we made the move. I took a whole sofa to the tip and heaved it away, and it was deeply satisfying. I KonMari’d the crap out of my life. Everything I have now is something I want, right?

HA.

Now we’ve moved, I have pieces of furniture that don’t have a use or a home. I have things that were dumped on me last minute, as I was loading up the van. Plus, there’s the stuff that we just plain forgot we owned till the last minute. I moved my childhood violin with me. I haven’t played the violin since I was 8. Why do I have this violin?!

Plus, there’s all the crap that we found in the new house when we moved. There’s terrible ‘modern artwork’ on the walls. There’s a rusty old shower caddy in the bathroom. There’s a variety of ‘funky’ yet dreadfully boring vases dotted everywhere. Why?! I don’t want them!

You’re Never Fully Packed

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Before we left, we ran into a snag as we couldn’t pack up everything before we could move. There’s stuff you’re still using, and will still be using until moving day. On moving day, we ended up flinging things at random into boxes, just so we could get the hell out.

That’s now backfired on us, as now we have several ‘Boxes of AAARGH!’ as my husband has dubbed them. Now we have to sort through them and put stuff away. Sounds great. I’m going to go cry now.

Your Address Needs Changing Everywhere

Much like changing your name, changing your address is a slow and on going process. I keep finding new places that need my new address. You think you’ve sorted it all out, but then there’s somewhere else that needs your new address, and what are you going to do then?

That would be ok, if everything would go smoothly. But it won’t. Paypal currently can’t work out why I want to change my billing address with them. I’m too tired to argue with them. This leads me onto my next point…

It’s Exhausting

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Even a week on after getting the keys to the new place, I’m still utterly knackered. If I’m not working, I’m tidying, cleaning, unpacking, you name it. I haven’t stopped. It doesn’t seem to have an end in sight either, so I think I’m going to mainline coffee and throw things out of boxes until my body gives out. That’s how you unpack, right?

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The Art Of The Enforced KonMari

Right now, I’m in the middle of trying to pack up everything I own, as I’m about to move house at the end of the month. I haven’t moved house in nearly 10 years, so there’s all kinds of things I’m having to lug about, sort, and pack into boxes before I can leave this house. Right now, it’s basically hell.

I’m basically undergoing an enforced KonMari session, except that session is going on for weeks and it isn’t really about what ‘sparks joy’ for me. Instead, it’s looking at an item and asking, ‘Can I physically be arsed to pack this up, move it somewhere else, and find a new home for it once I’ve moved it?’

The answer, often, is no.

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If I don’t want it anymore, then I have to find somewhere new for that item to live. Usually, we’re forever getting charity bags through the door. These bags ask me to fill them up with items I want to donate, and then leave them outside on a specific day so they can take them away. It’s a good deal if you’re trying to have a clearout. Since Christmas, we haven’t had a single bag through the door.

Typical.

Luckily British Heart Foundation let you order charity bags on their website, and you can order almost as many as you’d like. You can fill them up, and then give them a ring to come get them. Cheers, British Heart Foundation.

I’ve filled up some bags with the smaller items, and then booked a collection for them and some larger bits of furniture that need to go before we move. This was kind of last ditch, because first I tried selling them, or giving them away, online. I don’t know what it is about online trading sites, but they’re packed full to bursting with time wasters. Has anyone actually ever successfully got rid of something online? Either the item just goes unnoticed, or people promise to come collect it, and then leave you waiting in for nights on end. No, I’m no bitter or anything.

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I’m trying to give away as much as I can because I don’t want to be shoving stuff into the landfill, but despite my best efforts, there’s still plenty of rubbish I need to get rid of. Not having a car, I can’t simply rock up to the tip and throw it out. If I want to book a council collection I’m going to have to shell out for it, and moving is expensive enough as it is. Luckily, a friend has offered to take me but she can’t do it until next week. In the meantime, the house is piling up with bin bags that need throwing away.

Why not throw them away with the regular rubbish? Well, I would, but we have a wheelie bin that we can fit about 4 bags into, and no more. We’re not allowed to leave more bags, so I’m pretty much out of luck. The real kicker? The refuse workers are going on strike as of Monday. I’m not going to start in on them for wanting better wages, but their timing could not be worse.

The upshot of all this? I’m up to my eyeballs in boxes and bin bags, trying to get somebody, anybody, to take all this stuff away from me. Maybe I’ll sell everything, buy a caravan, and drive off into the sunset. Anything’s better than trying to clear out the attic.