At the end of the last move that had done, I removed two boxes that would never come to place and I sat on the floor. I relied on the wall where to go sofa which still did not have and put God to witness that would never make a move with my own hands. Something should fail in the transmission of the message because just yesterday I finished with my last move.
From that I accepted that I changed House I spent more time with arms in pitcher thinking where to start that you beginning. Is it better to do it from left to right? from top to bottom? from the smaller room to the largest? from the inside out? All options seemed to me to be bad and I refused to accept any. I took out trash bags and started to move out of life.
«Pulls everything what do not you used in the last year», said.
Read and heard it seemed a good idea. Pull. Pull. Pull. How easy is it when your things are of value and importance. But in my case it is not so. How am I going to throw those tickets from that supermarket in New York in which I bought the sandwich that I was so happy while waiting for the plane that I would return to the absolute unhappiness? Why would you want to pull that faded shirt of publicity that such company has made me many Saturday nights? Oops, no. I looked out the window and a light clashed against my eyes. It clearly is a sign, I thought. Obviously it was the neighbor across the street window ajar and the reflection of the Sun had left me cegata loss. In my (life) new house didn’t want to continue wearing clothing sitting at home giving penalty up to bad House 1 alone vagrants.
Normally I was going home with everything that was not to take out the trash. Broken leggings, t-shirts XL advertising or a sports Conference in which not remember attending with bleach stains, socks worn and of course unpaired. Excessive comfort for some, extravagant for me, embarrassing for my mother. Such was the dress that when called to the door (a neighbor asking for salt, normal) had to change clothes quickly. I put a pair of jeans and some decent t-shirt inside out. I had all the time (and anytime) PT of having awakened from a NAP or be being unfaithful and about to be caught. Very rare all.
There is the perfect move, sorry.
I read carefully and I listened patiently to all tips on the perfect moving but no one told me that that does not exist. Still, after five moves, something I have learned and it is less wisdom and more hands. More hugs. And from here my infinite support in all and each one of the emotional stages of moving.
- Confusion. Have I done well? What do I do with all this? where do I start? who you are and why you are drying the tears?
- Repentance: Alas, with it while I was at these 15 square meters Interior.
- Courage: If not I have so many things! Hehe
- IRA: And if it burned everything?
- Guilt: I deserve it by Maverick.
- Frustration: Life is crap.
- Shock: JAAAAARL (you fall round down)
- Anxiety: (Several insults)
- Denial: Scream at the sky this not just never.
- Learning: If you get to know before…
And finally, everything inside. You turn the boxes, you sit on the floor, you clean the mixture of sweat and tears from the face and put God to witness… Well, you better put a note on the back of the door that says «NO TE MOVING IN ONE HUNDRED YEARS».
By the way, begins by the Cabinet, the Devil’s Cave. Check this out!
In Jezebel | Dear Mr Wondeful: I don’t want to be happy all the time