Dear Void,

I was not sure you'd miss me and I am still cautious - you may be lying. Lying by omission, sort of.
You have been omitting from day one so I am in fact super-cautious.
Be that as it may - here's a little update, just so YOU know what I have been up to while I am - once again - left in the dark.

No. It's not a complaint.
It's alright. Really.

Thursday, 12th April I lowered the blinds in my old flat for the last time, I had a last cigarette. I did a lot of things for the last time that evening. It's a long list, believe me when I tell you. The next morning, Friday 13th, for the last time I saw the bakery switch on the shop lights, I heard early morning's blackbirds and blue tits once more, had my last cup of coffee. It was a morning of goodbyes. Not the soppy kind but the ones where it's ok to move on and to be happy.
And that Friday I also did a lot of things for the first time. A very happy-making experience, indeed.

A little symphony of lasts and firsts.

Fortunately, the newness has not rubbed off yet.
I still cannot quite believe it when every morning I wake up to birdsong instead of the bloody tram rattling by my flat.
I am still in a sort of box-limbo and will remain so for quite some time.
When I move from room to room I have to navigate a little. Things are sometimes a little hard to find.
Yup, I do a lot of searching and digging around these days. Not so much of the soul-search variety, I admit.

'Course I am still un-packed! What self-respecting single hipster on the move would be entirely organised and set up in their new abode?!

For now this will have to suffice. I am a busy woman. This is sooo a one-off!!! It's also a bit against the rules, I have to admit. So I'll go.

Caption? What Caption?

I am half-way there. Have signed the lease agreement, am awaiting counter-signature and that will be that.
To be honest, I have no clue how I am going to manage this all. This being The Move.

Turns out I have no man, no van, just flippin' boxes.
A single gal's dilemma.

Perhaps it is indeed time to take - as Alex Turner put it so wonderfully - the batteries out my mysticism and put them in my thinking cap.

Yup, will do.



Shalalala.





P.S. The Hellcat Spangled Shalalala? Hello!

There's Always More

You know how people say that one should travel light. 

I believe this to be true for both actual travelling and living. 

Note: before moving, do clear out your belongings. Because it is a known fact that if the burden is too great you will find yourself not actually moving at a noticable speed or worse, not at all. In live and on a journey. I am sure you have experienced one or the other at one stage in your life. 

Ah, but now for the moment of truth. 

For the past few years I have thought myself as someone with few possessions. I have considered myself as living light - at least in comparison to other people I know who own flats, whole houses, cars, holiday homes, stock bonds, pets... you name it. But in the cold light of day and with boxes waiting to be packed I have reached a grim conclusion. That which seemed straightforward and manageable now blatantly spells chaos. It is cumbersome and messy. 

In short I am not a fan.

I remember the days when all my belongings would fit into the back of a Vauxhall. Come to think of it that was when I lived in furnished rooms in flatshares, so I am not sure whether that counts. 

But as the years roll on and by you find yourself buying sofas, a bigger closet, more book shelves etc. 

And that is when you usually realise a) you are getting old (because let's face it who in their right mind buys a sofa when they are twenty-something. I was able to prolong that particular moment until I was thirty-odd years of age and I must say I am proud of that!) and b) that the older you get the more things you accumulate for the sake of comfort apparently. 

So far I have managed to stear clear of the possibly inevitable kitchen purchase, Lady Luck was on my side where washing machines and hoovers were concerned, I have always lived with someone who owned these things and was willing to share. 

But oh, how the mighty have fallen... at some point in the not so distant future I will have to consider these household appliances in earnest and make a decision - however, I will cross that bridge once I get there. Until then I shall carry on with my borrowed and inherited bits and bops. 

If need be I can get by on very little. And the way it looks right now, this theory will soon be tested. 

Haven't you heard, I am facing two months of having to pay rent x two. Plus the actual move, plus plus plus - do I really have to spell it out - it is going to cost me an arm AND a leg. 

On the other hand: less money, less stuff to cram flat with. 

P.S.

I know... This could be my Post-Move Fast.

 

Only set-back: it's going to take longer than 40 days.  

Life In A Box

First boxes are packed.
One set of curtains is being washed.
Had a good old clear-out..
All in all it's going well.

Bit of a sore back, though.

I must say I feel proud of myself and generally pleased with my life right now.
Because it needs to be considered that this is the first proper flat I am moving into all by myself. So far I have had what feels like 50 flat shares. I lived with girls and boys, just boys, just girls.
And now it's going to be just me. YAY ME!

I have weaned myself from "we" and have now reached a mostly healthy "me".

Ever noticed how one area of your life can be a metaphor for another?
My housing situation, my looming move, seem to mirror my personal life, i.e. I am clearing out and starting afresh. I am moving away from the past, from what has been. Sure enough I will be taking parts with me but mostly I will move on. That is the plan.

I have just been for a little walk and I have noticed - not for the first time, mind you - that ever since I've found that cosy little new place I have been saying goodbye to my neighbourhood. I cherish my morning walks to work, trying to memorise the houses, the trees, the shops, the quirks of this part of town. I trace and re-trace the routes, places and spaces that are soaked with memories of days gone by. That have silently witnessed brief moments of happiness, wonder and surprise, that have seen me in despair, without hope, that have felt my heart ache and that caught the tears. There are tiny pieces of me left here and there. Nothing big, nothing world-stopping, nothing extraordinary. Just a few years of my life, a handful of memories, the good, the bad, the ugly... that is how it is. And always.

It is good that I am moving on. It is time.

And it is Spring. I have been told that is when life starts over, full of hope, full of faith.