The deed is done.

Posted: June 13, 2011 in Uncategorized

Uh huh. We have moved.

We have moved ourselves. We have moved our crap.

It’s mind boggling the mountains of stuff you accumulate over 20 odd years.  And amazing how sick of  stuff one can get after moving it. I tend to look at the boxes and wonder what exactly the point is to this. And a lot of it is gone. And a lot of purging remains to be done. Yes indeedy.

Things I’ve noticed:

  • The bedroom is not quite as big as the one upstairs, there is about the width of my butt between the end of the bed and the dresser. Granted my butt isn’t tiny by a long shot, but either it has widened by a couple of inches over the weekend or the room is a few inches smaller.  I am doomed to living in teeny tiny bedrooms. At home. At the cottage. It is the bane of my existence. And that, my friends is so many levels of wrong. I want one of those rooms where you can put an armchair and a bench at the end of the bed. Unfortunately not gonna happen unless I move my bedroom into the dining room. Also not gonna happen.
  • I am too old for this shit. Going up and down the stairs to the third floor approximately 154,629 times is hell. I will never do it again. Nevah. Evah.  There are still some books up there to haul downstairs or to the donation center, but thankfully it’s almost done. My knees did not (and still don’t)  appreciate the experience.
  • I really really need to get my ass in shape. Which might shrink it and make the bedroom seem that much bigger. Bonus!
  • Painting furniture and moving at the same time is not good. Where to you put the clothes while you’re painting the dresser? Argh!! There’s a voice in my head whispering “Get the furniture done”, there’s another screaming: “Move! Move!” and yet a third scolding “Why is this not done yet, huh? Why? Why!?!” and sounding more hysterical by the moment. Explaining to the voice that I work for a living and had to paint outside, where it was raining most of the time is useless. The voices would much rather be hysterical than rational and logical. Stupid voices.
  • Mr.  Jazz and I don’t have the kitchen thing down yet. The layout is slightly different, and just off enough that we step on each others toes. Which is annoying since after all these years we worked like clockwork. We need to work out the choreography side of things.

So far I’m liking it though, other than the fact that due to layout differences, I tend to try to leave the house through the toilet, pee in the bathroom (our bathroom and toilet are separate) and brush my teeth on the landing to the basement. But I’m hoping the confusion will abate soon. Because otherwise I’m senior home bound and  I don’t want to move again. Nevah evah (I believe I mentioned that).

To think that when I arrived in Montreal I moved four times in the first two years.  I had it down to a science. Nay! An art form. I’d go to bed at 2:00 am and the pictures would be hung (no, I didn’t hang them at 1:45, I was very considerate of my neighbors that way), the dishes washed and in the cupboards, clothes folded and in the dressers and cardboard boxes ready to go to the recycling. I was fast. I was efficient.  I was a goddamn whirlwind – me and the Tazmanian Devil.

I am sorry to announce this person is no more. I’ve traded moving for pushing 50.

And there will be pictures when I get my shit together enough to find both my camera and my laptop.  Luckily a 60 foot move leaves about zero grey area for stuff (did I mention I’m sick of stuff) to disappear into. Over 60 feet there is no void.  Today I’d say: More’s the pity.

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Comments
  1. geogypsy says:

    Moving is certainly a pain, and short moves are worse than long. You end up walking more I think. Yet that could help the butt problem. Good luck in your new home. Maybe wear steel toed shoes while getting the kitchen dance down. 😉

    • Jazz says:

      Yeah, you recently went through the move thing with your mother if I recall. I think the worst thing about this move is that we had to empty the place out beforehand. Which took forever. The actual move is pretty much anticlimactic. I can’t really get my head around the fact that it’s done now. Over. Fini. All we need to do is get stuff put away and settle in.

      Wow. Now there’s mindboggling for you.

  2. mrwriteon says:

    Congratulations, adored sister. I am very happy for you and look forward to the pics. I know it has been a long time coming and I didn’t once envy you in your process. A metaphorical, ethereal bottle of champagne is sent in your direction.

  3. e says:

    Oy, but I hate moving. Like you, a younger me could chuck the few things I had in some boxes and a trunk, pile the odd pieces of furniture in the back of a truck, and have the new place sorted in two hours.

    While I can do none of that now, it was the catalyst for my becoming and remaining a dedicated minimalist. I hate feeling overwhelmed by stuff. I send you some bright and lovely ethereal and metaphorical flowers as a cheery addition to the new space. Best of luck with your continued clearing.

  4. Gnightgirl says:

    Man, that struck a nerve, the former tasmanian devil whirlwind. I think I unpacked and put my last house away in about 4 days. No mas, that’s for sure.

    Can hardly wait to see your pix, keep looking for that camera!

  5. Pearl says:

    Ahh. As another person also pushing 50, also with a long history of moving behind her, I feel your aches and pains.

    One room at a time, baby, starting with the kitchen. 🙂 You’ll be (new) home in no time.

    Pearl

    • Jazz says:

      After another evening – that evening yesterday when I said hey, I think I’ll chill tonight and ended up working on the place for 4+ hours, I’m beginning to believe we’ll get there…

  6. Jocelyn says:

    Let’s see, how many days will it take for the accumulated agony of first emptying an apartment and then oving your own down the stairs to abate? Actually, it’s more realistic to measure agony abatement not in days but in bottles of wine. I predict that in 9 bottles of wine, you’ll be feeling more settled. Or at least, after 9 bottles of wine, you won’t care any more. Congrats on the upgrade to downstairs.

    • Jazz says:

      Nine bottles? How about an even 10? But then at the rate I’m going, it’ll take forever since only had a glass yesterday.

      But wait. Four of us emptied 3 bottles on Saturday evening – I seem to have misplaced that dinner.

      Do I have to empty the equivalent of 10 bottles on my own? I can do that.

  7. XUP says:

    I love moving..for soooo many reasons. But just moving one floor down, isn’t really moving in my books. — it’s just rearranging furniture.

    • Jazz says:

      Humph! Two floors – and your moving is all done FOR you. They even pack your stuff.

      That said, I love rearranging furniture! 😉

  8. lime says:

    moving is just a big pain in the ass whether it’s down the street or to another country. glad you lived to tell the tale.

  9. geewits says:

    I’m happy for you that it is done. I feel for you, I do. The great news is that after you get those last books, your stairs days are over. So what will your excuse be now for Halloween?

    • Jazz says:

      Damn girl, is there anything you don’t remember? I actually hadn’t thought of that at all! I guess I’ll have to either get into the mood or go out to dinner.

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