Some called me lazy back in January, when I shoved the Christmas tree into a garbage bag and tossed into the loft with the decorations still on it, but now it’s packed up and ready to move! FORWARD PLANNING.
This tasty feeling of turning my life upside down reminds me of leaving Oz in 2003. I love a good life reboot. Back then it was distilling a Canberra apartment into a suitcase; this time it’s a family-size house and garage down to a two-bedroom flat (demand outweighs supply up there, they say). Gareth is mourning the garage brewery, but I’m pumped for smaller digs and pared-down possessions. The more stuff that walks out the door, the more space and lightness I feel in my brain. It’s a calm and quiet process this time though; not a gleeful running-away-from-something feeling.
Unlike a decade ago, I’m not scared of the unknown. I’m not worrying if this is the right or wrong move. It’s just a move. I’m not one to wang on about “The Universe” or fate or destiny… I reckon life is a mish-mosh of a) conscious decisions and b) completely random shit. So I will let things unfold, try to be open and choose whatever path feels best at the time. Something will happen up there, and whatever that is, even if it sucks I’ll get through it eventually.
I’ve been Gumtree-ing like a mofo. Gumtree is the dogs’ knob. I put a random item up there, and on average within half a day someone’s picked it up. Example: our gigantic, ancient television is too big for the flat. It was a cast-off from friends who’d originally got it free from a pub. Now it gets a fourth life with a stranger from Glenrothes. In your face, fancy flat-screen tellies!
Tip: Think carefully before shacking up with someone with hobbies that require lots of objects. Beware of home brewers, multi-instrumentalists and cyclists. Especially all three rolled into one person. And those who keep random planks of wood because they Might Come In Handy Some Day. I love you Gareth, but every time I open a cupboard I want to run away and be one of those minimalists. I’d travel the world with nowt but three pairs of undies, a Moleskine notebook and insufferable smugness. I’d stop typing vowels too, jst t cnsrv spc.
Most of my stuff is paper – souvenirs, notebooks, letters and Very Important newspaper cuttings. I nearly turfed it all into storage but decided to spend a few days sorting it properly. I pared four mega boxes into one shoe box of special stuff. I took my pal Sara‘s advice that if you don’t have room for something, take a photo then ditch it! Everything not photographed or boxed up now lives on in the brain-shed (or the heart one).
So we’re getting there. I can say without an ounce of self-deprecation I look and feel like crap! The past three months have been a bit intense. I’m not whinging – how could I with all Mary is going through (she’s making great progress, by the way!) – but my brain is overwhelmed mush. It’s taken me a week to bring you this gibberish! I want to fast forward to trotting along the River Ness and getting back into my routines. So excited for that.
I went into the loft last night to get more boxes. It’s so quiet and peaceful up there. I could hear the wind and the farmer ploughing the field nearby. I wished I’d appreciated the loft more this past four years. More than just a cardboard graveyard, turns out it’s a great place for nap!