Moving is the most ridiculously futile thing ever. Not the actual moving, moving part; that’s not futile, but the box part.
You spend three weeks putting all your belongings into boxes. You take a matter of hours to move said boxes. And then you have to unpack all the boxes.
And then you unpack stuff and you wonder what possessed you to think you might ever need that item again and why you even bothered to move it in the first place.
All kidding aside, the move went well. The boxes and furniture all arrived intact. And thanks to a lot of help from friends and family we’re in pretty good shape.
I even cooked yesterday. TWICE.
I’d show you the photos of the inside of the house, but the chaos is still overwhelming. Instead I shall share with you the view from where I’m sitting (the dining room table because the office desk is hiding under a mountain of book boxes.)
Just think… if you came to help me unpack you could see this view too!