The removalists came on Tuesday and moved everything I'd packed - mostly to my new apartment, and some of it to storage till I summon the energy to send it to my daughter in Brisbane. I hadn't quite finished packing everything before the removalists arrived and so I've had quite a few trips between my old and new apartment with a shopping trolley crammed with stuff.
But I've really and truly moved! So many loads to the garbage skips in my building's basement; so many trips to leave things at the local charity stores; but there's still a mountain of boxes to be unpacked.
The painters are in my new apartment this morning painting the old bookcases I've brought with me, so after they're dry I can begin unpacking all my books. Boxes of them. Many heavy boxes of them. Despite culling quite a few as I packed I think I'll still have too many for the space I have, so I suspect more culling will be needed. I'm torn between putting things away anywhere just to make some space, and knowing that this is a really stupid move. Anyway, I'm so physically tired that just co-existing with chaos for a few days seems by far the most attractive option.
Predictably, I have no telephone or internet connection at home until sometime next week, so I'm having a bit of a holiday from blogging and blog-reading. Maybe next post I'll be more settled.