We’re moving. Not through time, just space. We’re good, but not that good

We’re moving house. Tilf, Boo and I are moving. Bring on the trumpets.

Oh, sorry, not trumpets… Chaos, that’s right, chaos.

We’re all moving to a new house that we can only just afford, in a little village. It’s tiny, but in fairness, Tilf and I only take up one body and Boo is a cat. But we’ll be on our own, which will be an interesting change.

There are, however, some problems. For one, we’ve never had to move house before. Well, we’ve moved, all over the place. All round the world. But with the parents, they did the moving, and we just tagged along. Then moving into flats, first with the psycho-rapey loony, then back home, then in with Josh. Which we were encouraged to call home, so after a year, when we had to move out, it was a little, well, a lot, traumatic. Along with all the other horrible misery and pain. But we’re not talking about that. And no, she’s not better, we’re trying to focus on this move, and pretend it’s all ok.

It’s not going very well.

So, anyway, now, we’re going to be moving into a place on our own, it’s all very well living on your own when you’re not alone, but living on your own when you’re alone is just horrible. And confusing. It made sense in my head. But it’ll be ours. And that’s a damn important step. Possibly. Maybe it’ll just be an expensive way for me to vegetate.

Other problems include packing. Normally very easy, however I must continue to live in one room at my parents, with Boo, not very nice. So I can’t pack, as there’s nowhere to put the boxes when I’ve packed them. This means not packing. But I can’t not pack, as dad will throw a fit about being prepared and ready etc, and all the other things it’s not generally a good idea to shout at someone who’s going bald with stress. And lack of sleep. And falling rather underweight

Great motivator, is our dad. But whether he likes it or not, he’s going to be putting up shelves and carrying boxes on the day. Well volunteered there dad.

Then there’s the thought about arranging a new house, and hanging pictures and placing shelves. This is also proving confusing. But, in theory, I can ignore all of that until the last second.

In theory.

So, in the current clusterfuck that is our rather confusing, upsetting and distinctly wrong life, forgive me if I fail to keep an accurate blog going. I promise, we promise, to try and keep it covered.

We will be back, as soon as possible.
Promise.

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