Misplacement to Relocation

My household contents left on a huge truck yesterday. It was an open backed truck and my study chair was piled right at the top of a mountain of boxes. It had to be tied and as I watched my belongings slowly rolling down my narrow street, the chair looked ridiculous and I pictured someone perched on it riding my belongings on the freeway to my new destination.

I loved the look of the empty house. It's wooden floors sounding hollow under my bare feet. Strangely enough my two cats weren't the slightest bit perturbed. We were going to spend the night and I'd arranged a last take away supper with friends that evening. I'd hired a friend's husband to go with the movers asking him to organize the unpacking of a three bedroomed house into a small one roomed space on the other side. A fleeting thought pof how the hell everything was going to fit on the other side, but i quickly pulled the blind down on that and opened a bottle of wine.

Acquiring the new place wasn't easy. Rentals in the village, I was going to was like hens teeth, but at the eleventh hour I found something and without knowing what I had paid for, not even a photo, I snatched it up with an immediate payment. I was tired of prolonging my goodbyes, ready and ripe to leave the next day.

The turn off from the highway was downhill and winding road and it was strikingly beautiful leading into a lush valley under a vast mountain range. One cat fast asleep and the other fretting all the way.

I arrived, settled Baggins and Django with food and water. The house house on the outside was sorely neglected. Paint peeling off the cracking walls which was smothered in some thick black mold, but I had arranged for the landlord to clean up for a fee added to my rent and depsit.

It was packed to the ceiling, but Nelson who had come up the da before had managed to organize a space for the dinning room table and had connected the stove and fridge. Mattresses and bed bases leaned along the walls and one half of the room was packed to the ceiling on either side leaving a narrow walk through to get to the bathroom. The toilet didn't flush was my first observation. My bladder nearly unending me.

And then I saw the grime.

The only clean place to sleep that night was on the kitchen table. The front door was so broken that half through the night a slight breeze blew the top half open. As opposed to the city, I wasn't afraid that night. I slept soundly and woke up to the task of cleaning.

By 3 O' Clock, it was blisteringly hot. I have a chilled glass of wine and some snacks and sat from the height of the table staring blankly at the mess I'd moved into.. Thank God I have a sense of humor. I chuckled and thought what the hell have I got myself into. "Have another glass babe. Draw the imaginary curtains around the table and just pretend that you've been committed to a lunatic asylum, finish that glass and take a nap when the sedative kicks in.

I slept on and off that night, dismounting the table a few times to close the door which blew open a few times and slept like a log. Fix the door and the toilet in the morning! As I drifted away, I came up with a plan to build a tent from the three bed bases, builders plastic and a staple gun so that i could move some clutter out of the house. My last thoughts before sleep came were, "Girl you're going to be cleaning for a long, long time. So don't wait for a prince to revive you with a kiss in the morning.