Moving Day

I've moved apartments. And am completely and utterly exhausted.

Moving has shown me a few things:

1. I have very poor estimation skills.
After the open inspection of what is now my flat, I described it to my friends by comparing its size to the size of rooms at uni or at other people's flats. Which made them think I was moving into a midget house. Which it isn't. And it's not my decriptive skills that are bad. Karly and I went bookcase shopping and I was worried that the one I bought wouldn't fit in my lounge room. The bookcase arrived yesterday... the space I set aside can fit two more.

2. Lots of boxes can fit in baby cars, if they're arranged correctly.
6 years of my life in 4 carloads. Kinda sad, when you think about it.

3. Too much storage space can be perplexing.
This is especially true if you have nothing to put on the shelves. All of a sudden, there's an urge to fill cupboards upp and reorganise your entire organisation plan. Then you end up sitting on the kitchen floor, wondering how you can logically justify putting a wok with a colander on the same shelf. Or maybe that's just me.

4. Music and sugar have the power to rejuvenate the weary.
1 milky way bar, Alicia Keys and Usher singing "My Boo" on the radio, and Karly and I were ready to lift 3 tables from the register to the Kmart carpark. And then to move them into my new flat AND assemble them. (Alas for the lack of a screwdriver...)

5. When moving, make your bed first.
At the end of the day, when you're tearing your hair out in frustration and are still surrounded by boxes, you can relax knowing you have a nice bed to sleep in, with newly laundered sheets.

6. Never underestimate the power of best friends.
If it weren't for Karly: I'd still be struggling with my 20th car load; my bed wouldn't be made; and I'd be eating take-away from the pub since I would have lost my cutlery somewhere.