Thursday, September 29, 2005

Moving vs. Death of Spouse


They say that the stress of moving is comparable to the death of a spouse. While I don't think that is consciously true, I think that most people are not amazed when they read stats on the subject.

We move this weekend. Gorgeous house. With a garden and one block from Queen's Park. I think when you're moving, you start to obsess about thousands of tiny things that may or may not happen. I am already stressed about paint fumes - the decorators are coming soon after we move in. I am already stressed about the possibility of the owner selling. I am already stressed about the "man with van" trashing the walls of our old place by throwing our furniture into them. NONE of this stuff has happened! (Yet).

The owner of our property is slightly neurotic, and I am already worried about her stalking us to check if we are looking after her place. Julian is being amazing. He has been riding around the countryside looking for Ponies for his Pony Pin-up project and has been talking to cutesy deers in paddocks. I trust him to show me the soft cuddly side of daily life in the midst of the madness. (It's not been that mad, but it's always nice to know that someone has time to stop and admire the deers.)

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