... and moving. Who was it that said that moving was one of the most stressful things that anyone can do?
I am currently in the middle of moving. Not moving down the road either - I am moving continents!! This time next week I will be in the middle of my stopover in Canada and the following week I will be back in sunny (read: Freaking hot!) Brisbane.
I am looking forward to it, but am a little worried. I've changed. How much have I changed? I can walk now without thinking I'm going to die. I don't need my mother to sit with me until I fall asleep. I am quite happy to be alone (again) without thinking that I will die - OK, this still crops up sometimes, but generally it's of the as-long-as-I'm-at-home-someone-will-find-me variety. That and the whole 'I wonder what nail polish remover tastes like?' But, I am definitely a different person who moved to England in 2008. She's ready for her next adventure.
If I've moved on that much, what about my friends? Engagements have occured, babies have come into existence (and made me a little clucky each time I read about them... but no need or desire as yet) and new jobs have been taken. Will I still fit in? Will I be welcomed - I was the one who pissed off to the other side of the world after all - back? Or for that matter, will I still want to fit in? Have I moved on too much? I doubt it very much, but I am still worried.
I am also annoyed at my bags. I have thrown three full bin bags of rubbish out, given three plastic shopping bags worth of stuff to friends and three bin bags to charity, and it STILL won't fit. I'm going to have to go through each packed bag individually and throw even more stuff out.
And you know what? I'm only packing one room up (sans furniture).
Kudos to those people who move whole houses. I'm going to move into my house (when I get it) and never never ever leave.