Mosaic of boxes


Depending on which unreliable statistic you source, you’ll find a person will move house about 16 times in their lifetime. If that’s to apply to me, I can conclude I’m not going to reach my 30th birthday.

For the thirteenth time I’m relocating my life in a mosaic of boxes, with the discouraging knowledge that I’m going to be doing it all again in four months, when I go to my fifteenth home.

And I won’t even be 28 yet.

So far this week I’ve packed three boxes of DVDs and two boxes of books, and am feeling pretty good about that. It means I’ve started. It means I can relax with a well-earned coffee as I survey those five nicely stacked boxes, while choosing not to think of the ad infinitum boxes still to be filled.

If money grew on trees, I’d be inclined to hire burly men to pack and move everything, but while I could justify that for an international move that had to placate extra red tape and customs officials, I can’t ethically do it just so my boxes can move ten minutes across town.

I’d have thought that familiarity with this process would have developed an efficiency too; that every time I packed it would be done faster. But really, all that I’ve developed is a dislike of the once-amusing game of Tetris.


1 Comment

  • Mum
    04 Sep 2011

    Well done – Tetris overcome. Now you can relax and recover. (Hopefully you will enjoy the new shower – flying hot needles.)

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