At long last!

I moved house. These may be some of the nicest words I ever been able to type. After all the hassle leading up to the move, I am so relieved to be there at last. Of course there is still a lot of work to be done. How one person has managed to accumulate the sheer volume of stuff that I have is a mystery, and it's all crammed into the seeming hundreds of cardboard boxes which currently comprise the dominant decorative statement of my new pad. The fact that a goodly number of these boxes are labelled with such concise descriptions as 'clothes stuff', 'stuff' and 'little boxes of stuff' will probably not help the unpacking project. However, I already have a guest booked in for a few nights in the near future, so I have to try and enforce a little order!


Tonight will be my first night alone in the flat, now that my poor exhausted parents have escaped the weekend-long gulag experience that is helping their fretful and incompetent daughter to move house. I'm excited about coming back to what is now my home and starting my new routine. Also to pottering about over the next few weeks and making it feel like mine; all the little things like organising my kitchen cupboards the way I want them, and spreading my ever-present array of pretty but pointless knick-knacks throughout the space.

Of course, I'm fairly exhausted from such joys as the freshly smashed window over the front door, having to remove half of a different door frame to get the sofa in, and the cat catching a baby mouse in the flat on my first morning there, so it's entirely possible that I'll get home, look at the boxes and make an executive decision to just go to bed. No........I can see my mother's headteacher stare......the one that so strongly influenced my finely honed and terrifying librarian stare, and firmly declares that I must have discipline. I hereby promise I will unpack one box before dinner, another before my evening G&T, and a third before I go to bed. This way organisation lies!