RDOs Amigos: Moving

I argued about two weeks ago that house hunting was more stressful than moving.

I am wrong and I am an idiot.

I mean, who goes on the record to say that moving isn’t the most horrible experience of your life?

Don’t get me wrong, the positive aspects of moving far outweigh the giant negative that is the moving process, but remembering that little fact is next to impossible when you are an hour into lugging boxes down a flight of stairs.

Yesterday my partner and I signed our new lease and collected the keys to our fancy new unit…in the seediest street of the Valley. Needless to say, we were very excited! (We actually are).

We made grand plans to completely clean out the house (we both like things to be clean), slowly move things in over the weekend and unpack what we can so that when we get removalists on our next day off it is stress free…and we can hopefully venture to IKEA for, no doubt, a Billy bookcase or three.

This morning we awoke nice and early, threw down some breakfast and started on our epic task of the weekend.

At our unit we decided that as I am about a foot shorter, I was in charge of cleaning the kitchen and washing our new dinner set whilst my partner aka the 40ft Man sugar soaped every wall in the apartment…without a ladder.

After close to three hours of cleaning, pruned hands and a chronic bout of height envy on my part, we were done with our respective jobs and decided that the tenants before us were filthy pigs who were clearly evicted and thus didn’t clean at all. At times when my partner was emptying the bucket of dirty water into the garden I could have mistaken the rancid liquid for coffee. The people were pigs.

We then decided we had earnt ourselves some even dirtier takeaway and headed to McDonald’s. How is this of importance to the story? Well, for the first time in about a year I thought it would be a good idea to order a Big Mac. I was VERY excited about this decision. Sadly, the girl behind the counter decided that by Big Mac, I meant Quarter Pounder. This didn’t help the rage that had started to boil over in the then-filthy kitchen.

The one positive I could take from having a quarter pounder is that I could bring up my nephew for the entire duration of lunch.

“Did you know that Van is the same weight as roughly 36 of these?”

After a photo montage of my nephew and what felt like 27 back and forth trips we have made a large dent in the packed boxes that have been littering our old apartment. It wasn’t easy, or fun; but it is closer to being done.

We decided we that our hard work had earnt us a reward.

This reward is called buying a Dyson followed by a trip to the bottle shop for a carton of beer…which I am now off to drink.

I will be back to talk you through what I predict to be the perfection that comes from owning a Dyson.