We’ve known for months we were going to move, but that doesn’t mean I liked the idea. Our landlord sold our flat, Womp. We hired crates – I was excited about not having to recycle boxes, hurrah for less waste! That part was great. We packed everything up and had a whole host of lovely friends come and help us ferry things to the new place, which conveniently was just down the road. It was really heartwarming to have so many people come help us, it’s a lovely thought to know we’ve got so many friends who have our backs.
Fast forward three months and we’re in our new place. The crates clearly less helpful post-move. We had to give the crates back empty – which meant emptying them. There are little towers of STUFF everywhere. Piles and piles of it. We have too much stuff, clearly. It’s overwhelming, and I’m not sure what to DO with all of it.
It irks, and I’m uncomfortable. Coming home feels is awkward. It feels like we’re forcing ourselves to fit in this little flat. The flat and I are working against each other at every opportunity. Our furniture is positioned awkwardly against walls they weren’t designed to fit against (I’d like to throttle the person who made the radiator placement decisions – clearly they’ve looked at the room and put them in the most inconvenient of places possible, for their future lols as my current furniture place predicament). We’re giving each other the side eye, this flat and me.
Truth is, I miss the old flat. I miss the layout and the familiarity and our routines. It was our first home, me and Zee. A place that we made ours. The new place feels like it’s disgruntled that we’ve dared arrive, and is thwarting us at every turn.
I know this is temporary. I know that we’ll work it out, and it will be fine. But until that, I’m awkward and uncomfortable and still sad to have said goodbye to our old flat.
Oh moving. Oh change. Oh goodbyes.
Grace in small things
Despite the position of this post, I am still attempting positivity. It comes and goes in waves, and I’m trying to smooth out the peaks and troughs. We’ll see. Things I’m grateful for:
I get to do this with Zee who is infinitely patient with me and my moods and furniture struggles. This would be horrible without him and I’m glad that’s not the case. We’re in it together, there’s comfort in that.
2. Our friends are awesome.
I am overwhelmed with gratitude for people who came to help – we had a great crew. It really was heartwarming to have a small army of people take time out to help us. Warm fuzzies all round.
3.The new place is actually lovely, first world problems.
Sure, the layout is awkward and we don’t know where everything fits yet but in the scheme of things? Our new flat is actually lovely. It’s modern and has well proportioned rooms and has everything we need to go about our lives. We’re warm and dry and have place for our too many belongings. It’s safe, and has a balcony. I’ll take it.
4. Time is moving forward, we’re not stagnant.
Sometimes I forget that change is hard, and uncomfortable and needed. As much as I could have happily settled into the old flat – the new one forces a perspective change and offers new nuances that I hadn’t considered before. I know that I thrive when things are kept a bit interesting so as much as this was forced rather than chosen – change can be good, right?
5. We get to stay in our neighbourhood.
This is a definite boon. We’ve got friends close by, it’s safe and has everything we need within walking distance. It’s familiar. I did several days of house looking in other areas. North of the river, east of the city, in little industrial on-the-verge-of-hipster neighbourhoods. It felt very different, and I’m glad that we managed to find a place local. Bonus was that we didn’t need to hire a van!